Yorkshire oddities, incidents and strange events

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YORKSHIRE ODDITIES.

YORKSHIRE ODDITIES,

INCIDENTS, AND STRANGE
EVENTS.

6
f
BY S. BARING-GOULD, M.A.,

AUTHOR OF " CURIOUS MYTHS OF THE MIDDLE AGES," "ICELAND: ITS SCENES AND
SAGAS — THE BOOK OF WEKE-WOLVF.S." ETC.

' There be such a company of wilful gentlemen within Yorkshire as there be not in all
England besides." — Abbot of York to Cromwell, 1556, Rolls House MS.

VOL. I.

jfouttf) (P&ition.

JOHN HODGES,

24. KING WILLIAM STREET, STRAND, LONDON.

1SS0.

1>A

PREFACE.

A residence of many years in Yorkshire, and
an inveterate habit of collecting all kinds
of odd and out-of-the-way information con-
cerning men and matters, furnished me, when
I left Yorkshire in 1872, with a large amount
of material, collected in that county, relating
to its eccentric children.

A friend, when he heard that I was col-
lecting such material, exclaimed, " What are
you about ? Every other Yorkshireman is
a character!" Such is the case. No other
county produces so much originality — and
that originality, when carried to excess, is
eccentricity.

I look back with the greatest pleasure to
the kindness and hospitality I met with in
Yorkshire, where I spent some of the happiest
years of my life. I venture to offer this col-
lection of memoirs of odd people, and
narrative of strange events, as a humble

vi Preface.

contribution to the annals of the greatest, not
perhaps only in extent, of our English
counties, and a slight return for the pleasant
welcome it afforded a migratory penman from
the South

INDEX TO VOL. I,

:o:-

The Ghost of Trinity Church, York

Peter Priestley, the Wakefield Parish Clerk

" Old Boots "

Foster Powell, the Pedestrian'

Prophet Wroe ....

Bishop-dyke Pond

Snowden Dunhill, the Convict.

James Naylor, the Quaker

" Old Three Laps "...

Christopher Pivett

David Turton, Musician at Horbury

John Bartendale, the Piper

Blind Jack of Knaresborough .

" Peg Pennyworth " . .

Peter Barker, the Blind Joiner

The White House

Jemmy Hirst, an Oddity

The Tragedy of Beningbrough Hall

A Yorkshire Butcher

The Old Yorkshire Tyke .

The One-Pound Note .

Benjamin Preston, Provincial Poet

i
13
19
20

23

56

62

89

102

10S

109

117
120

173
177

1 S3
191

2 2 2

229
-43

-45
267

Yorkshire
Oddities and Incidents.

THE GHOST OF TRINITY CHURCH, YORK.

OME years ago I heard mention made of an

apparition said to have been seen in Trinity

Church, Micklegate, York, which at the moment

excited my curiosity. But as I heard no more

about it, it passed out of my mind.

In 1869 I was invited to deliver a lecture at Middles-
borough, when I met a clergyman who introduced himself
to me as an old acquaintance. We had not met for some
years, and then he had been a boy at school. About a
week after I left Middlesborough I received from him the
following letter : —

I.

"Easter Sunday Evening, 1S69.

" Dear Mr. Baring-Gould,

" I venture, from the slight acquaintance I am
happy to have with you personally, and the deeper one I
have with your tastes from external sources, to enclose for
your perusal a narrative of a perfectly true event, drawn up

B

2 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

by myself some few years ago, at the request of some
friends who doubted the truth of the circumstances therein
related. If you have ever heard anything of it, and can
help me in explaining it, I shall be grateful, as it per-
plexes me, as one always is teased when something
which one cannot account for has been brought to one's
notice.

" Mr. S is going in a few Sundays to preach at the

very church in York where this took place, and this bring-
ing again before my mind the spectacle I then saw, caused
me to apply to my friends for the account I gave them,
and I now send it to you. I could, if you are interested,,
supply some minor details, but better by word of mouth, if
ever we meet again. The only correction I should make is
this : You will find that I relate a sequence of events, and
I am not quite satisfied in my own mind that I have given
the order of the incidents exactly as they occurred, and it
is possible that I may have inverted them. At the time I
was so startled that I was more intent on observing the
figures than noting what was the succession in the scenes, if
I may use the expression. Indeed, each reappearance was
a surprise ; and when I tried to recall each incident in the
order in which it occurred, I found that though I could
recall the appearance distinctly before my mind's eye,,
yet I could not swear to which scene preceded the other.

" This was the only occasion of my visiting the church.
I confess the impression left on my nerves was not pleasant,
and I do not think I should like to risk the effect of a
repetition of it. Apologising for thus troubling you with
my experiences,

" I remain, yours very truly,

" A. C.

The Ghost of Trinity Church, York. 3

" P.S. — The Incumbent, Mr. W , has left, and

another, Mr. M , has now the living of Holy Trinity,

Micklegate."

The following account, dated 1S66, was enclosed in the
letter :—

"Whilst staying in York at this time last year (1865),
or perhaps a little earlier, I first heard of the apparitions or
ghosts supposed to be seen in Trinity Church, Micklegate.
I felt curious to see a ghost, I confess, if such a thing is to
be seen without the usual concomitants of a dark night
and a lone house. Accordingly I went to the church
for morning service on a blazing hot Sunday morning in
August last, with a girl about thirteen years old and her
little brother.

" The east window of the church, I must explain, is of
stained glass, rather tawdry, and of no particular design,
except that the colouring is much richer in the centre than
at the sides, and that at the extreme edge there is one pane
of unstained glass which runs all round the window.

" The peculiarity of the apparition is, that it is seen on
the window itself, rather less than half-way from the bottom
(as I saw it from the gallery), and has much the same effect
as that of a slide drawn through a magic lantern when seen
on the exhibiting sheet. The form seen — I am told in-
variably— is that of a figure dressed in white walking across
the window, and gives the idea of some one passing in the
churchyard in a surplice. I say a figure, for the number is
generally limited to one, and 1 was told that only on Trinity
Sunday did more than one appear, and that then there were
three.

" Eut I can vouch for the larger number appearing on

4 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

other occasions, as on the day I was there, which was one
of the Sundays after Trinity, there were rarely fewer than
three visible.

" The figures began to move across the window long
before the commencement of the service, when in fact
there was no one present but ourselves. They did so again
before the service began, as well as during the ' Venite,'
and subsequently as many as twenty or thirty times, I
should suppose, till the conclusion of the sermon.

" Of the three figures two were evidently those of women,
and the third was a little child. The two women were
very distinct in appearance. One was tall and very grace-
ful, and the other middle-sized ; we called the second one
the nursemaid, from her evident care of the child during
the absence of the mother, which relationship we attributed
to the tall one, from the passionate affection she exhibited
towards the child, her caressing it, and the wringing of her
hands over it.

" I may add that each figure is perfectly distinct from
the others, and after they have been seen once or twice are
at once recognisable.

"The order of their proceedings, with slight variation,
was this : The mother came alone from the north side of
the window, and having gone about half-way across,
stopped, turned round, and waved her arm towards the
quarter whence she had come. This signal was answered
by the entry of the nurse with the child. Both figures
then bent over the child, and seemed to bemoan its fate ;
but the taller one was always the most endearing in her
gestures. The mother then moved towards the other side
of the window, taking the child with her, leaving the nurse
in the centre of the window, from which she gradually

The Ghost of Trinity Church, York. 5

retired towards the north corner, whence she had come,
waving her hand, as though making signs of farewell, as
she retreated.

"After some little time she again appeared, bending
forward, and evidently anticipating the return of the other
two, who never failed to reappear from the south side of
the window where they had disappeared.

" The same gestures of despair and distress were re-
peated, and then all three retired together to the north side
of the window.

" Usually they appeared during the musical portions of
the service, and especially during one long eight-line hymn,
when — for the only occasion without the child — the two
women rushed on (in stage phrase), and remained during
the whole hymn, making the most frantic gestures of
despair. Indeed, the louder the music in that hymn,
the more carried away with their grief did they seem
to be.

" Nothing could be more emphatic than the individuality
of the several figures ; the manner of each had its own
peculiarity. I do not doubt that if the stained glass were
removed, a much plainer view would be obtained. I
think so, because the nearer the centre of the window,
where the stained glass was thickest, there the less dis-
tinct were the forms. It was like catching glimpses
of them through leaves. But nearer the edge of the
window, where the colours were less bright, they were per-
fectly distinct ; and still more so on the pane of unstained
glass at the edge. There they seemed most clear, and
gave one the impression of being real persons, not
shadows.

" Indeed, by far the most remarkable and perplexing inci-

6 Yoi kshire Oddities and Incidents.

dent in the whole spectacle was this, that on one occasion,
when the mother and child had taken their departure, the
medium figure — the nurse — waved her hands, and after
walking slowly to the very edge of the window, turned
round whilst on the pane of unstained glass, and waved her
arm towards the other two with what one would call a
stage gesture, and then I most distinctly saw, and I
emphatically declare I did see, the arm bare nearly to the
shoulder, with beautiful folds of white drapery hanging
from it like a picture on a Greek vase. Nothing could be
plainer than the drag of the robes on the ground after the
figures as they retired at the edge of the window where
the clear glass was, previous to going out. The impression
produced was that one saw real persons in the churchyard :
for though the figures were seen on the window, yet they
gave one the impression of walking past the window out-
side, and not moving upon the glass.

" No one in the church seemed to be in the smallest
degree attracted or discomposed by all this, or, indeed, to
observe it.

"I talked a great deal on the subject with Miss C ,

daughter of the late Dr. C , of York, and she told me

that Mr. W , the Incumbent of Trinity Church, would

give anything to get rid of it, or discover the imposture, if
imposture there be. She told me that he and his family
had watched day and night without being able to find any
clue to the mystery. Their house is in the churchyard and
opposite the east window, and therefore very favourably
placed for such an investigation. I am not inclined to
think that the trees outside the church at the east end can
originate the appearance by any optical illusions produced
by waving branches. I could see their leaves rustling in

The Ghost of Trinity Church, York. 7

the air, and their movement was evidently unconnected
with the appearance and movement of the figures.

This curious communication led to my making inquiries,
and I speedily heard of several persons who had seen the
m .hosts " at a later date. Friends to whom I applied have
sent me the following letters, written independently of one
another. They naturally shrink from having the* names
published, but I can testify to these accounts being perfectly
bond fide •' —

II.

South Parade, York,
March 22nd, 1S71.

« De\r Mr. Baring-Gould,

c<I promised to send you an account of the
ghost at Holy Trinity, Micklegate, and I now forward you
the enclosed, written by a friend on whose word you may

perfectly rely. , .

-I heard another account a few days ago from a lad>
who saw it on Sunday, the 19th February last. She de-
scribed the figure-for she saw only one-as being dressed
in a shining white garment, and says that it crossed the
east window twice, with a slightly 'skipping step. It
appeared to be outside the church, as she saw it distinctly
through the stained glass.

« I have never seen it myself, though I have been several

times to the church.

*« There are four lights in the east window, and the glass
of the two central lights is of a darker tint than that in the
side ones. There are, however, narrow panes of transparent
glass in each of the lights, so that a person passing acre,

8 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

the window outside could be distinctly seen by anyone
sitting in the west gallery.

" The sill of the east window is about five feet from the
ground outside, and about seven feet from the pavement
inside ; about ten yards from the east wall separating the
churchyard from a private garden.

" Yours very truly,

" R. T."

This is the enclosure alluded to by my friend " R. T." : —

III.

" Having heard from several people of the ghost at the
Church of the Holy Trinity, Micklegate, York, on Sunday,
at the end of September, 1869, a friend and myself made
up our minds to go and see if we also could be favoured
with a sight of this wonderful apparition.

" Well, we went up into the gallery, the only place
whence they say it is to be seen. You may, perhaps,
already know that the gallery faces the east window, which
is filled with modern stained glass.

" I am afraid that our attention rambled somewhat from
the service, for we were looking out for the ghostly visitant.
However, we watched and watched, as we began to think,
in vain, until at the very end of the second lesson, when,
just before the beginning of the 'Jubilate Deo,' I saw a
figure, I should say of a shortish woman, with something
white folded over her, covering even her head and face, but
still I could see what it was. The figure appeared to walk
very fast across the two middle lights of the east window,
from right to left {i.e., from south to north), and seemed to
be at some distance from the window.

The Ghost of Trinity Church, York. 9

"The strange thing is, that I saw it clearly through the
thick painted glass.

" The whole thing happened so suddenly, and really
surprised me so much, that for some time I could hardly
get up from the seat or find my place at the beginning of
the chant. Just as it disappeared my friend said, ' Did
you see that ? ' To which, of course, I answered, ' Yes ;
did you ? ' That was all we saw ; and a lady who was
there at the same time, whom we knew, saw it also, exactly
as we did, only apparently not with the same distinctness.

" Many persons have seen a great deal more. I believe
that the figure is generally seen to walk across the window
in the reverse way to that which my friend and I saw, and
returns with a child, some say with two.

" We examined outside the window. It is a good deal
above the ground, about five feet I should think, and at the
side of it is a very old gravestone, with no inscription on the
headstone as far as I could make out. I believe it is cur-
rently reported that the apparition issues from that grave.

" Some people thought that it might be a shadow caused
in some peculiar manner by the trees that grew outside ;
but it was not, for the trees were cut down about three
years ago, and the apparition is still seen, as it has been, I
have been told, for a century.

" I have nothing to add, except that this is a true and
unexaggerated account of what I saw."

IV.

York, March 2%ih, 1S74.
"Sir,

" Owing to severe illness in my family, I was not

able to reply to your note earlier. I will now try and tell

io Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

you what I have seen and been told on the subject of the
ghosts at Holy Trinity Church, Micklegate.

" A York lady, now dead, told me she remembered
seeing it when a child, and that she once read an account
of it in an old History of York : she thought the book
must have been published in the seventeenth century.

" We now live in the parish of Holy Trinity, and attend
the church regularly. A part of my family sit in the gallery,
therefore I will tell you, in as matter-of-fact a manner as
possible, what I myself have seen, and leave one of my
daughters, if she likes, to give you her experiences.

" I must state also that the ghost is seen more or less
distinctly as you happen to be seated in the centre or side
of the gallery ; as a rule, the former is the best place.

" As I have no faith in ghosts, I have been most wishful
to have the matter cleared up. At present I cannot account
for the appearance in any way.

" I went many times to the gallery in hopes of seeing
the phenomenon, but was repeatedly disappointed. At
last, one dull day, hopeless for the purpose as I thought —
rain was falling at the time — I was startled by seeing some-
thing.

" There are two east windows — one on the right, filled
with common green glass, the organ in front of it. From
the outside of this window I saw something move, and
immediately a graceful figure of a girl of eighteen or twenty
years crossed the outside of the stained east window with a
light, free step. She was entirely covered with a fine lace
veil which, as she walked and met the air, showed the out-
line of the head and figure ; the features I could not dis-
tinguish, but could see a shadeth rough the veil where they
naturally would be.

The Ghost of Trinity Church, York. 1 1

"The veil was of a pure white, flowing back as a train as
she walked. In two or three minutes the figure returned,
the robe flowing back in the same way, and disappeared
behind the organ window.

" The figure appeared to me to be decidedly outside the
window, and at a greater distance than was possible for any
one to be ; in the first place, because the east window is
high up, and therefore anyone walking past it, to be seen
at all, must be at some little distance from it ; and,
secondly, because there is a dead wall within a few yards
of the window.

" The pure white of the robe quite obliterated the colours
in the window, but the lead work was distinct enough, and
the figure appeared behind it. The distinct outline of the
figure is most striking.

"The apparition always returns to the organ window.
I have seen this several times since the first. Owing to the
dull day and the darkness of the windows, the appearance
on the first occasion was the more remarkable. Two or
three other figures also appear, but I never thought them
as distinct as the first, and I thought the second and third
might be reflections of the first. The two or three often
move quickly back and forwards with a dancing movement
somewhat like the reflection of the sun on a wall, but taking
the form of human figures. However, it was dull and rain-
ing when first I saw the apparition, so that on that occasion
there could have been no reflection of sunlight.

" These appearances are sometimes not seen for weeks
and months ; then they appear once or twice on succeeding
days or Sundays. No one can be sure of seeing them it"
they go to the church for that purpose. I do not believe
the apparition takes place at one more favoured time than

1 2 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

another, though some people like to think so. The present
rector wished to abolish the 'ghosts,' and was advised to
cut down one or two trees. This was done ; all thought
that the ghosts were banished. Ten months after there was
a gay wedding ; my daughters went into the gallery to
witness the ceremony, and lo ! the ' ghost or ghosts ' were
there also. They had not been seen for nine or ten
months. That was the first occasion since the cutting down
of the trees on which they reappeared.

" The Sunday-school children who sit in the gallery see
the forms so often as to be quite familiar with the sight, and
call them ' the mother, nurse, and child.'

" The legend I have heard told of it is that a family, con-
sisting of a father, mother, and only child, lived here once
upon a time. The father died, and was buried at the east
end of the church, under or near the organ window. After
a while the plague broke out in York and carried off the
child, and it was buried outside the city, as those who died
of plague were not allowed to be laid in the churchyards
for fear of communicating the infection.

"The mother died afterwards, and was laid in her
husband's grave, and now, as in her lifetime, continues to
visit the grave of her child and bemoan the separation.
The child is brought from its grave in the plague-pit by the
mother and nurse, and brought to the grave of its father,
and then it is taken back to where it lies outside the walls."

" L. S."

Peter Priestly, the Parish Clerk. 13

PETER PRIESTLY,

THE WAKEFIELD PARISH CLERK.

[N the middle of last century there lived in
Wakefield a certain Peter Priestly, who for
many years was sexton of the parish church of
All Saints. The then vicar was Michael Bacon,
D.D., a tall, portly man, of a commanding presence, who
wore a large bushy wig, as was the wont of many old
divines of that date. He was a man of rather a warm
temperament, and was apt at times, when matters did not
flow quite according to his will, to grow a little irritable,
and whilst in that condition his habit was frequently to
thrust his right hand in a testy, impetuous way under his
wig. This habit destroyed the symmetry of that capital
ornament, and made it protrude considerably on the right
side ; and this protrusion grew greater the longer the wig
was worn.

The vicar's wigs were inherited and worn by the sexton,
whose venerable and awe-inspiring appearance was much
enhanced thereby. Mrs. Priestly in vain endeavoured to
reduce the protuberance of hair on the right side, so as not
to betray the origin of the wig. The horse-hair resumed its
elasticity in spite of her efforts, and the congregation in the
parish church were amused to see the stately Doctor in his

1 4 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

reading-desk with a deformed wig, and below him the
scarcely less stately clerk in a wig the counterpart of that
of the Doctor. But what amused the wags not a little was
to observe the fact that when the Doctor's wig was perfectly
symmetrical, instantly the sexton's assumed the most exag-
gerated inequality in the sides. The secret of course was
that the Doctor had donned a new wig, and had given his
old one to the clerk. But after a while the irascible vicar
had succeeded in brushing out the tufts of his false head of
hair on the right, and simultaneously the continued efforts
of Mrs. Priestly had reduced the right-hand protuberance
in the wig of her husband. Consequently, as one bush
grew, the other shrank into itself. But there were points —
like the equinoxes — when both wigs were alike.

Now it fell out that Doctor Bacon had determined to
present himself with a new wig one Easter, and he had
accordingly given Peter Priestly his old wig, which had
arrived at its maximum of extension on the right-hand
side.

Peter had heard it said that on S. Mark's Eve the spirits
of all those who are to die during the year may be seen in
the church. Half believing this popular superstition and
half in doubt about the truth of it, and thinking, moreover,
that if it might be so, he should like to know whether trade
would be brisk for him during the rest of the year, he decided
that anyhow he would go to the church and see what would
happen ; and not wishing to spend his time idly, he deter-
mined to occupy himself with lettering some grave-stones
which he had not completed. The place in which he
carried on this work was the base of the church tower,
which was shut off from the nave by a large boarded par-
tition, against which stood the west gallery of the church.

Peter Priestly, the Parish Clerk. 1 5

The opening from the tower into the nave consisted of
large folding-doors.

Now, according to the story, on S. Mark's Eve a train of
all those who are to die before the ensuing S. Mark's Eve
come into the church through one of the doors in their
winding-sheets, each carrying a corpse-candle. A ghostly
priest precedes the weird procession, and dolefully intones
the burial service.

When Peter had finished his supper on that eventful
evening, he said to his wife : " I think, lass, I'll go and do a
bit o' my lettering ; so gi'e me my lantern wi' a can'le in it.
I happen shan't be so varry long ; but I think I'll just go for
a bit. Hovvsomever, if I should stop a middling while, ye
needn't be flayed (frightened), for I want to finish them two
stoanes."

It was not without some trepidation that Peter took up
his place in the tower, and left the folding-doors ajar that
he might look into the nave and see the awful train sweep in.

Peter was not a nervous man, or at least he did not
think himself so, and he began his work, whistling a psalm
tune. He was engaged on a large grave-stone on which
he had already completed about half the inscription. It
was standing raised upon tressels to the required height ;
and at this he worked diligently for a long while, with his
face towards the east and the folding-doors, and every
now and then he stole to the doors and peeped through
into the nave. All was perfectly dark and silent. He
returned to his work with lighter heart after each glance
into the great dark church. He had taken the candle out
of his lantern, and had put it into an old rusty candlestick,
which he kept there for the purpose, in order that he might
have a better light

1 6 Yorkshire Oddities and hicidents.

The church clock, with many premonitory groanings,
had struck the hours of ten and eleven, and Peter still
pursued his work. The eventful ghostly hour was ap-
proaching when the graves reveal their secrets. As this
hour drew nigh Peter's courage began to fail. It flashed
across his mind that perhaps the spectral procession would
enter the church, not through the south porch, as he had
at first conjectured, but through the western tower-door; in
which case it would be upon him, envelop him, before he
knew where he was.

This caused great agitation in Peter's breast, and made
him turn his head every now and then to see if anything
were stirring. But all remained still; the only sound that
broke the silence was the pulse of time, the old clock
throbbing above in the tower, and that sound seemed to
grow more monotonous and weary.

Twelve o'clock drew near, and Peter's heart began to
beat quicker. " I arn't flayed," he said to himself, " but
I'm varry hot ; t' work ha' made me so, I reckon. There's
nowt to be flayed at, for there's nowt to be seen. I'll just
wait while it strikes twelve, and then I'll go home."

So on he worked, but his hand was not as steady as
usual, and he made a blunder in the letter he was cutting ;
and this annoyed him.

" I doan't know how it is," he said ; " I think I mun be
getting ow'd, for my hand rather shakes, and I can't see as
weel as I used." He wiped his spectacles and snuffed the
candle which stood at his right hand, and drew it closer to
him. At that moment the striking apparatus of the clock
groaned and prepared for twelve. Peter looked round
over his shoulder. The quarter began to strike, and then
with a great whirr the first stroke of the ominous hour

Peter Priestly, the Parish Clerk. i 7

sounded — the second — the third. How slow they did
strike — surely slower than usual. At each stroke he
turned his head and glanced behind him. Twice he
started. Surely there was a little sharp sound for a
moment, like an unearthly hiss. He raised himself and
looked about him. There was nothing.

He bent himself again over his work, and the clock had
reached the eleventh stroke. The twelfth followed. He
turned sharply round, and on the instant such a rush
sounded close to his right ear — such a strange, super-
natural light glared suddenly through the tower — such a
breath of hot air fanned his cheek — that he thought surely
the ghostly train was passing. Over went the candle, and
was extinguished. Dov/n fell mallet and chisel. The old
man stumbled out of the tower, rushed through the church-
yard, and ran home, never looking behind him till he
reached his door.

His house stood at the north-east corner of the church-
yard. Opening his door, he ran through the room, and,
pale and breathless, sank into his old arm-chair by the side
of the fire. For a moment or two his mouth opened and
gasped inarticulate words. Then, extending his trembling
hand, he said to his alarmed wife, " Gi'e me my pipe,
lass — gi'e me my pipe."

" Why, Peter," said his loving spouse, u whativer is
t' matter wi' thee ? Thou looks right flayed."

" Gi'e me my pipe, lass — gi'e me my pipe," he gasped
again.

She went to the clock-case and took the pipe down from
a ledge at the side of it, where it always rested when not in
use, and reached down the tobacco-box from the delf-case
against the wall ; and bringing them to the old man, said,

c

1 8 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

as she gained a closer view of him, " Why, Peter, whativer
hast thou been doing ? Thou'st burnt ommost half t' hair
off t' right side o' thy wig ! "

" What ? " said Peter, with a sudden feeling of relief
from his fright.

" Why, tak' thy wig off, and thou'll soon see," said the
wife.

Doing as he was bid, he sat studying the precious wig.
The great bunch of hair ruffled out by the vicar's hand was
consumed to the roots.

Peter burst out laughing ; the mystery was solved. But
he made no more visits to the church at midnight on S.
Mark's Eve.

Peter was remarkable for many witty sayings, but most
of these have been forgotten.

He was lettering a grave-stone in the churchyard one day,
when a physician came by, who, looking at the inscription,
which was partly cut, said, " Why, Peter, you've spelt it
wrong."

" Have I, Doctor ? " said he, sharply. " Then how
should it be ? "

When he was told how to correct his blunder, he looked
slyly into the physician's face and said, " Well, well, pass
it over, Doctor — pass it over. I've covered up monny a
blot o' yours."

He one day stood listening to a Methodist local
preacher in the market-place. The preacher was attempt-
ing an oratorical effect, and exclaimed, " My brethren, if
every field in the world was thrown into one field, what a
great field that would be ! " " Ah ! " said Peter, loud
enough to be heard, " if every jackass i' t' wcrld was one
jackass, what a big jackass that 'ud be ! "

Old Boots.

19

•s&iiStfffl

OLD BOOTS.

|LD BOOTS," a well-known character at Ripon
in the eighteenth century, was born about the
year 1692. What his real name was I do not
know. He was for a long time boot-cleaner
in an inn at Ripon. He was remarkable for a very long
nose curving downwards, and extending an inch and a
quarter beyond his lips, and a chin which extended straight
before him, and almost met his nose. When visitors at the
inn gave him a gratuity he received it on his chin, and held
it fast there with his nose till he deposited it in his money-
box. People often gave him money for the sake of seeing
him carry it about in this singular fashion. He could rub
the tip of his nose with his chin, and used to say that if
he let his beard grow, it would bury his nose. He created
great diversion among the servant-maids by attempting to
kiss them, a feat he could never accomplish. He turned
his face sideways to get a kiss, and his nose and chin
caught the rosy cheeks like a pair of crab's claws. But to
kiss was an impossibility, for when he had thus fastened
the damsel, his mouth was open and could not be closed.
He died in the year 1762, at the age of seventy.

20

Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

FOSTER POWELL,

THE PEDESTRIAN.*

HIS remarkable pedestrian was born in 1734 at
Horseforth, near Leeds. In 1762 he came to
London, and articled himself to an attorney in
the Temple. After the expiration of his clerk-
ship he remained with his uncle, Mr. Powell, of the New
Inn, and when he died engaged himself to a Mr. Stokes,
and after his decease to a Mr. Bayley, both of the same
place.

Before his engagement with Stokes he undertook, not
for any wager, in 1764, to walk fifty miles on the Bath road
in seven hours, and this he accomplished in the time,
though encumbered with a greatcoat and leather breeches.
He walked the first ten miles in one hour.

He visited France and Switzerland, and gained attention
by his remarkable walking powers. In the year 1773 he
walked from London to York and back again, a distance of
400 miles, in five days and eighteen hours. This was his
first walk for a wager.

In November, 17 78, Powell attempted to run two miles
in ten minutes for a wager. He started from Lee Bridge,
and lost it by only half a minute. In 17S6 he undertook

* From Wilson's and Caulfield's " Wonderful Characters."

Fostei' Powell^ the Pedestrian. 2 1

to walk 100 miles on the Bath road in twenty-four hours
— fifty miles out and fifty miles in. He completed this
journey three-quarters of an hour within the time agreed
on.

In 1707 he undertook to walk from Canterbury to
London Bridge and back again in twenty-four hours, the
distance being 112 miles, just twelve miles more than the
distance accomplished in his former journey on the Bath
Road. This he accomplished, to the great astonishment
of thousands of spectators who assembled to witness the
completion of the arduous task.

The following year, 17SS, he engaged to make the
journey from London to York and back again in six
days. He executed it in five days and twenty hours.
After this he did not undertake any journey till 1792, when
he set off again to walk from London to York and back
again in six days, but accomplished it in five days and
eighteen hours.

In 1792 he determined to repeat his journey to York and
back again for the last time in his life, and convince the
world he could do it in a shorter time than he had pre-
viously done it, though now at the advanced age of fifty-
eight years. Accordingly he set out from Shoreditch
Church to York Minster and back again, and completed
his task in five days fifteen hours and a quarter. On his
return he was received with loud cheers from the assembled
crowd.

In the same year he walked, for a bet of twenty guineas,
six miles in fifty-five minutes and a half, on the Clapham
Road. Shortly after, he went down to Brighton, and
engaged to walk one mile, and run another in fifteen
minutes : he walked the mi'e in nine minutes and twenty

22 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

seconds, and ran the other mile in five minutes and
twenty-three seconds, by which he was seventeen seconds
less than the time allowed him.

Previous to this he undertook a journey to Canterbury,
but by unfortunately mistaking the road from Blackheath to
London, he unavoidably lost the wager. Yet he gained
more money by this accident than by the journey had he
accomplished it ; for his friends, feeling for his disappoint-
ment, made a collection for him, and presented him with
the sum of ten pounds.

In person Powell was tall and thin, about five feet nine
inches high, very firmly knit, with a sallow complexion.
He was amiable and courteous. He was somewhat par-
ticular about his food, preferring light food, abstaining from
liquor, but on one of his walking expeditions supporting
himself on brandy. He allowed himself but five hours'
rest, generally after eleven o'clock at night.

In 1793 he was suddenly taken ill, and died on the 15th
of April, in his apartments in New Inn, in rather indigent
circumstances. The faculty attributed his death to over-
exertion on his last journey to York, for he had determined
to complete it in less time than before, and he probably
exceeded his powers of endurance. In the afternoon of
April 22nd he was buried, at his own desire, in the church-
yard of S. Faith's, adjoining S. Paul's Cathedral. The
funeral was characteristically a walking one. He was laid
under the only tree then surviving in the churchyard. He
died at the age of fifty-nine.

P?'ofthct Wroe. 23

PROPHET WROE.

OHN WROE was born at Bowling, in the
parish of Bradford, Yorkshire, on September
19th, 1782, and was baptised in the old parish
church of Bradford. He was put to school,
but from want of capacity or of application he made such
poor progress that when he left it he read very imperfectly,
and he never acquired a facility of reading.

He was brought up to follow his father's employment,
which was that of worsted manufacturer, combined with
farming and the proprietorship of a coal-pit. In course
of time his father gave him a share in his business, and
articles of partnership were drawn up, but were never
signed. John's natural incapacity for application to busi-
ness probably obliged his father to place his brother
Joseph in his room as partner, and John afterwards often
complained of being hardly treated by his father and
brothers. It is evident, however, that this treatment he
brought on himself, and that his father acted with judg-
ment in not entrusting the conduct of business into his
hands.

His grandfather is said to have declared that " the Lord
would raise up a minister from among his offspring." To
fulfil this prophecy Wroe placed his youngest son Thomas

24. Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

in a school to be educated for the ministry in the Church,
but was prevented from applying to the Archbishop of
York for ordination for him, as the Vicar of Bradford
and a friend dissuaded him from doing so, on account of
Thomas labouring from an impediment in his speech.

John's irritation against his brother Joseph brought him to
the verge of committing a dreadful crime. He procured a
pistol and lay in wait for his brother, intending to shoot
him, but his conscience reproached him, and he did not
put his murderous purpose into execution.*

John and his father in course of time came to an open
rupture about some wool that had been bought by the
latter, and John determined to set up for himself. He
applied for a farm in Tory Street, and the landlord would
have accepted him, but his father intercepted the letter,
and took the farm himself for three years. John, highly
incensed, moved into the farm-house, and maintained his
position there during all that time. His father wished to
dispossess him, but not liking to summons his own son, he
thought it better to suffer him to remain there.

On his way one night to Adwalton he was attacked by
two men, who robbed him of eighteen pounds. The men
were apprehended but not convicted, and John never
recovered the money.

He took up wool-combing as a business, and engaged
apprentices. One of his apprentices, Benjamin Lockwood,
involved him in losses, according to his own account, and
this led him to bankruptcy.

I give the next passage from his memoirs as it stands.
It is vaguely worded, and I do not profess to understand

* This he mentions in his tract, "A Vision of an Angel," Bradford,
Inkersley, 1820.

Prophet Wroe.

-o

it. " He was about five years an housekeeper previous to
his marriage with the daughter of Benjamin Appleby,
of Fasseley Mills, near Leeds."

In 1819 John Wroe was attacked by fever, and was pro-
nounced in danger. Dr. Field, who attended him, advised
Mrs. Wroe to prevail on him to settle his affairs. The
thought of death so moved and alarmed Wroe that he
entreated that some Methodist preachers might be brought
to visit and pray with him ; but they refused, although his
wife sent to four of them. She then asked him if she had
better not send for his parish priest, or some of the clergy-
men of the Church ; but he declined, saying it was too
late, and he begged her to read to him some chapters from
the Bible ; "and," said he, " I will see what I can do for
myself."

He gradually recovered his bodily health, but not his
ease of mind, and for some months he continued wander-
ing about the fields with his Bible in his hand, sitting down
under the hedges, and spelling out easy passages for him-
self; but still found no comfort.

Soon after this he fell into epileptic fits, and saw visions.
In these trances he became completely rigid, his eves
remained closed — the eyelids as fast together as if they had
grown to one another, and his tongue stiff in his mouth.
In this condition he remained sometimes seven, twelve,
twenty-four, or even thirty-six hours. After one of his fits,
his eyes remained closed for six days, but he recovered the
use of his tongue. The first of his trances came on in the
morning of November 12th, 1S19, at two .o'clock, before
dawn, as he was rambling in the fields. He says : " A
woman came to me, and tossed me up and down in the
field. I endeavoured to lay hold of her, but could not ;

26 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

I therefore knew it was a spirit" Could this not have been
his wife, impatient at him leaving his bed and rambling
about so early ?

After this he was taken and put to bed. Who by ?
Was it by this woman who tossed him about ? In bed he
remained twelve hours.

On the 19th November, six days after his shaking,
he had a fit, and lost his sight and power of speech. On
his returning to consciousness, he wrote on a black board,
in rude letters and abject spelling, the revelations he had
been allowed to behold. It consisted in oxen running
down a lane, tossing their horns, which frightened him to
tears. "I thought that I walked about a mile among
these beasts, until I returned to my former place, and there
an angel met me, and he took me to a large place, where I
saw a great number of books, placed on their edges, having
gilt letters. There also appeared large altars, full of letters,
but I could not read them. I begged that I might be
enabled to read and understand what I had seen; and
there appeared another, the letters of which were black
print or old English, with the word Jeremiah on the top of
it, and the letter L. I wrote on the wall with my fingers at
the time, as I lay in bed; the people who were present
observing me, concluded that I wished to write (I was
dumb, for my tongue was fastened in my mouth as before) ;
they gave me a piece of board and chalk, and I wrote
Jeremiah, 50th chapter. I had never read this chapter,
or heard it read, or seen it before, to my recollection ; but
when I came to myself I could, without looking at it, re-
peat nearly every word in it."

On the 29th of November following he had another
epileptic fit accompanied with visions; and on the 14th of

Prophet Wroe. 27

December " I was again struck blind at about ten o'clock
in the forenoon, and remained more like a corpse than
a living man for twenty-four hours, when I came to myself
by degrees, but continued blind for five days. After many
things, the angel said to me, ' Thou shalt be blind for six
days, and on the seventh day thy father shall come to thee,
and many people with him ; he shall lay his right thumb on
thy right eye, and his fourth finger on thy left, as a token
that he remembers his former sins and wickedness ; and if
not, it will be a witness against him at the Day of Judg-
ment, and thou shalt receive thy sight.' During the six
days that I was blind my wife at one time was reading
a hymn for me ; when she had read it I desired her to read
it again ; but before she had done so I fainted, and saw
the elements separated, and there appeared before me
a large open square ; I saw our Saviour nailed on the cross
and the tears trickling down his face, and at that time
I thought he was weeping for the wicked people upon the
earth. An angel then appeared holding a man by a single
hair of his head, who had a very large sword in his hand,
which he waved backward and forward. I then saw a pair
of large scales let down to the earth, and a great bundle,
which was placed in one side of it, which I thought was the
sins of the people, and then saw a great number of weights
placed in the other j but the bundle was so much heavier
that the weights bounced out, and the scales were drawn up
into heaven. Then the man that was held by the hair of
his head by the angel brandished his sword six or seven
times, as formerly, and disappeared. I afterwards saw
Moses and Aaron, accompanied by a great number of
people, attended by angels, and I heard such delightful
music as it would be impossible to describe. There was

2 8 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

darkness over the place soon after, and I lost sight of all in
a moment."

He continued with his eyes shut for exactly six days, and
on the seventh his father came and placed his thumb on
his right eye, and his fourth finger on his left, whereupon
John Wroe opened his eyes and then fainted away. As
soon as he received his sight the people surrounding him
asked if he really saw clearly. He found that with one eye
he saw as distinctly as before, but with the other only
imperfectly, and this he attributed to some one having three
days before endeavoured to force the eyelids open.

Wroe tells us in his Autobiography that his father, placing
his thumb and finger on his eyes in the manner indicated
beforehand by the angel, filled every one with astonish-
ment ; but from Joseph Wroe, his cousin, we learn
that the father did this according to the express orders
of John.

Samuel Muff, a spectator, says : " During the twenty-four
hours that John Wroe was in his trance reports of the
circumstance frequently reached my house, adding that he
was likely to die. I accordingly went to see him, and he
came to himself when I was in the house, but was entirely
blind. On hearing my voice, he communicated many
things to me which I cannot at present recollect ; but I
remember his having said that he was blind, but that he
would yet see. He wrote me a few lines in the course of
his six days' blindness, desiring that I would come and see
him at the time his eyes were opened, and which he asserted
would be at the end of the six days ; the letter was sent to
me by one of my neighbours, who declared he saw him
write it j and stone blind as he then was, it is the best piece
of his writing I ever saw. I complied with his desire, and

Prophet Wroe. 29

actually saw his eyes open in the manner already related.
After his father had placed his thumb and finger on his
eyes, he appeared to me for some time as if he were dead.
He afterwards came to himself, sat up in the chair, and his
eyes instantly opened. He and I were brought up within
a quarter of a mile of each other, and were schoolfellows,
but the master who instructed us never could teach him to
spell or read, nor even to speak plainly."

Joseph Wroe, John's cousin, says : "The first time I met
with John Wroe after the commencement of his visions,
which was in the street in Bradford, I said, ' I have been
informed that thou hast begun to preach.' He replied,
' Well, I do not know much about preaching, but I have
begun talking, and people may call it what they please.'
I said, in a contemptuous manner, ' I have also been
informed that thou hast been visited with visions or
trances ; what hast thou seen ? ' He replied, ' I have seen
a great deal too much to relate here.' He appeared
reserved, and would say no more. Some time after this ^
person came to my house, and inquired of me whether I
had seen my cousin John, adding, ' People say he is blind,
and has been so for three or four days.' I went to see hit \
on the following Sunday, with many others. At his desir_
I led him to the door, and accompanied him to the house
of a neighbour, named Abraham Holmes: it was this mar.
who wrote his visions, and part of which was done on tha'.
occasion. We delayed there until it was dark, and I led
him back to his house. When I was about to return home
he laid hold of my hand, and would not suffer me to pro-
ceed until I had promised him to return next day, as
he asserted that he would then receive his sight. I ac-
cordingly attended the same day ; several persons did the

2,o Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

same, and one of them said to John, ' Art thou not afraid
that thou wilt never see any more ? ' He replied, ' No, I
have not a doubt about it. I am as firm as a rock in the
belief that my sight will be restored at the appointed time.'
A few minutes before the time he requested that some
person would lead him to a private place, where he might
have an opportunity for prayer. I accordingly led him into
the parlour, and withdrew; he soon after returned, and
ordered a chair to be placed in the middle of the room, so
that every person present might observe what was to be
done. He then called his father, directing him to lay his
thumb and finger on his eyes, and he did so. John said,
' You have done enough ; take away your hand.' He then
stretched out his legs and feet, his head and arms fell back,
and he fainted, and his countenance appeared like that of a
person who was dead. He remained so for about a minute,
when his eyelids began to move, and suddenly opened;
he came to himself and said, ' I can see.' I inquired of
him, ' How wast thou before thy sight was restored ? ' He
replied, ' I got a glance of that glorious place, and at that
instant my sight returned.'"

The following night he prayed that he might be guided
in the choice of a sect to which to belong. At about two
in the morning he woke, and saw on the tester of his bed-
stead a black board, on which appeared in gilt letters,
" A. A. Rabbi, Rabbi, Rabbi." He awoke his wife, and
told her what he had seen. He thought at first that Rabbi
was the name of a town, and that he was perhaps to go to
that place and declare there what he had seen ; but after-
wards concluded it was a sign that he was to go and testify
to the Jews. Afterwards he conceived himself to be com-
manded to testify in England for three years, " with his hat

Prophet Wroe. 31

on his head," and at the expiration of that time to join the
Jews.

Accordingly, in the same year, 1820, Wroe went to Liver-
pool by Huddersfield, to visit the Jews there. At Hud-
dersneld he was well received by three Methodist preachers,
who helped him on his way with money. On reaching
Manchester he lodged in a house, and was asked by the
person who let him his lodging whether he knew John
Wroe, as he understood that he came from Bradford. Wroe
having answered in the affirmative, the man continued —
" What sort of a fellow is he ? " John replied, " Some give
him a very indifferent character; but time proves all
things." He was then asked if he were John Wroe, and
when he said he was, he was told that he should be heartily
welcome to his lodging and victuals gratuitously as long as
he stayed there.

The accomplishment of some predictions made by Wroe
tended greatly to increase his fame and impress the ignorant
and superstitious with belief in his supernatural mission.
But it is as easy to account for the accomplishment of these
prophecies as it is to vindicate the natural origin of his fits
and visions. He predicted the speedy death of his wife's
brother, and he sent his wife to her brother, Joseph
Appleby, to inform him that before long he would be dead.
Appleby was at the time ill in bed : there is little doubt
that the fright caused by receiving this message killed him.

In the spring of 1821 the cousin of John Wroe, who
employed him as a wool-comber, refused to engage him or
have any more of his badly-executed work, telling him he
was more fit to be a preacher than a wool-comber. There-
upon John fell back in a fit against a bale of wool, and
when he recovered called all to witness what he said—

32 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

" Take notice of that young man," said he, pointing to the
son of his employer, who had been foiemost in his com-
plaints and abuse; " he will never more do any work ; he
will never again pay any man wages." The young man
was immediately taken ill and died. In this case the lad
was no doubt killed by fright.

On the 14th of August, 1S22, came the final summons to
Wroe to go to the Jews. As he was sitting in conversation
with some dupes or believers he asserted that he heard
thrice a voice which cried, " Go to my people Israel, and
speak the words that I command thee." It continued
speaking for about a quarter of an hour, and was succeeded
by beautiful music. " He inquired of the aforenamed
persons," we are told in his Autobiography, " whether they
heard anything ? and when they answered in the affirmative,
and appeared alarmed, one of them said, ' The voice came
from beneath the second bar of the fire-grate.' Wroe said,
' This voice is not come for my sake, but for yours.' " One
regrets to hear this, for hitherto Wroe seems to have been
acting in sincere good faith, believing in his visions ; but on
this occasion there is apparent deception. His neglect had
lost him his livelihood, and he was obliged to prey on those
deluded people who regarded him as a prophet, and to keep
up the delusion had recourse to artifice.

He was now convinced of the truth of thf great revela-
tion of Joanna Southcott. Already, in August, 1820, he
had had an interview with George Turner, the prophet of
that sect, on his visiting Bradford, on which Wroe had in-
formed Turner that he (Wroe) was sent exclusively to the
public, and that Turner was sent exclusively to the elect of
the Society ; and on this understanding Turner had con-
sented to shake hands with him.

Prophet Wroc. 33

But in 1822 the Society of Joanna Southcott was in a
state of expectancy, awaiting the advent of the promised
Shiloh on the 14th of October in that year, and it seems
to have entered into Wroe's head to take advantage of
this, and announce himself to the Society as a prophet in
place of Turner, who he had the shrewdness to see would
be discredited by the failure of the appearance of the
Shiloh. He was accordingly visited with trances, in which
he saw Joanna " transfigured before him in the open firma-
ment, in the day-time, with the Child in her left arm."

Accordingly, Wroe attended a meeting of the Society at
Bradford on August 25th, 1822, and he announced:
"You are expecting Shiloh to appear and be amongst you
on a certain day ; but I tell you He will not ; and many of
the believers will fall off, not merely one or two in a
society, but whole societies will fall away. Yet I do not
doubt that the visitation to George Turner is of God ; and
as a testimony of which, I will give in my name among
you."

On the following Sunday evening he had one of his
epileptic fits in the meeting, and lay as if dead. On
recovering he announced that he had seen an angel, who
had commissioned him to act as prophet. But only two
persons at the meeting believed in him, and the whole of
the Society at Bradford never thoroughly accepted him.
He then went to Almondbury, where was a meeting
of the Southcottites, where also he met with indifferent
success.

On Sunday evening he reappeared in Bradford, and
adopted the following extraordinary expedient to impress
the congregation : — Unknown to the members, he caused
two men to stand, one on each side of the archway leading

34 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

into the second room of the meeting-house — the house
being divided into three parallel apartments, which opened
into each other by an archway in each partition, thus form-
ing a sort of narthex, nave, and chancel. Each man held
a sword, and the swords were united at the points, so that
the Friends, to enter, had to pass under the swords. Wroe
entered last of all. Then the men pointed their swords at
his breast, saying, " The sword of the Lord is against thee.""
Wroe instantly fell on his knees, and prayed aloud that
if his mission were not Divine, the swords might fall and
smite him asunder.

Wroe then stood up and walked to the second archway,,
the men with the swords stepping backwards before him,.
still with their swords at his breast. Thus he stood and
preached on his mission to the congregation, who were
amazingly impressed at this solemn farce. When all was
over, he bade those of the Bradford Society who believed
in him to pass under the swords ; and the great majority of
the congregation did so. This naturally created a schism
in the body.

Letters were written by the Committee of the Society at
Bradford, by Wroe's direction, to the Societies at Ashton-
under-Line, Stockport, Sheffield, and Colne, to inform
them of what had taken place, and requesting them to
delegate two men from each congregation to come to Brad-
ford and examine the truth concerning the mission of
Wroe. The Societies at Stockport and Sheffield declined
the invitation, but in the following year nearly the whole of
the body at Sheffield accepted the prophetic mission of
Wroe, and some at Stockport believed.

It was time now for Wroe to begin his mission to the
Jews. He had a large following, and was provided liberally

Prophet Wroe. 35

with money by his dupes, which he was not, however,
suffered to touch himself.

After having visited Jews at Liverpool and London with-

. out success, on April 27 th he embarked in the brig Doris
at Liverpool for Gibraltar, in company of Robert Harling,
of Thornhill, and reached there on the 20th of May. But

1 there Harling's heart failed, whether at the sight of the

! " abominable idolatries " of the people, or because his faith
was shaken in Wroe, does not transpire. On the day

1 following their landing Harling returned to England in a
vessel that was ready to sail ; but John, having visited and
converted the local Methodist preacher, remained with him
two months. This preacher, Cooke, was greatly exercised
in spirit on the arrival of the Prophet ; but having prayed
earnestly to the Lord, as he tells us, " The Lord opened
my eyes to see," and he became an enthusiastic believer.

On Saturday, the 31st, Wroe appeared in the synagogue
of the Jews and delivered his testimony. The Governor
of Gibraltar declined to permit him to preach in public ;
consequently Wroe departed, having been offered a free
passage to England. Before he did so he had been turned
out of the synagogue, and had invaded the Roman
Catholic churches, where he deposited his prophecies on
the altar in Spanish. This is one of them : —

" I, Jesus from heaven, command thee, John Wroe, to
warn the kingdom of Spain that if they return not from
their wicked ways of worshipping images made with men's
hands, and bowing before them, I will draw my two-edged
sword against them, and it shall turn every way till I have
destroyed them. But who is this that has caused them to
err? They have hearkened unto their priests instead of

36 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

hearkening unto me. Now, I will tell you what I will do
unto your priests : I will chase them as hounds chase a
fox, until I utterly destroy them, and the remnant that is
left shall slay your king, and they shall know that I have
sent this unto them by my servant."

He began to address the Irish Roman Catholic soldiers
on the Rock, but the adjutant turned him out. In the two
months he was at Gibraltar he had succeeded in making
many enemies. A woman threw a pitcher out of a window
at his head, but fortunately missed him, and he was several
times threatened with a pistol. One day that he was
creating disorder in the cathedral the priests took him by
the shoulders, thrust him out, and locked the doors behind
him.

Wroe reached Liverpool on August 23rd, and then
visited Ashton and Birmingham. On October 12th he
again sailed for the Continent, and reaching Paris on the
1 6th, he began to preach his mission to the Jews in the
Palais Royal.

From Paris he and his companion, William Lees, went
to Strasburg, where they " attended the meeting of the
Jews in their synagogue. These Jews, not understanding
English, conducted them to the house of the Rabbi, who
was not at home. His daughter could speak some
English, but not sufficient to admit of her understanding
the whole of what John and William wished to communi-
cate. The Jews therefore requested to have the purport of
the message given to them in writing, which was accord-
ingly done. They behaved very well. On the following
day, Sunday, John was so ill that he was confined to the
house, and sent William to the Hebrews to receive their

Prophet Wroe. 37

answer to his letter. William found a man who could
speak English. He said ' he had read the letter to the
Rabbi, who was very angry, and said he had power to
imprison them for two years, but had pity on them, think-
ing they were deranged.' "

After visiting Vienna, they proceeded to Trieste. One
would like to know what they thought of that glorious
road over the Sommering Pass, and down the valleys of
the Murz and the Save, by Laibach and the weird ashen-
grey dolomite peaks of the Terglou and Dobratz ; but no
allusion to the scenery escapes these dull travellers, except
that they " durst not proceed by night, through the
apprehension of robbers, the road being over the moun-
tains."

At Trieste they visited the Jews and a Roman Catholic
priest, who treated them with good-natured contempt ;
and they went on to Venice, where they again testified
to the Jews. At Verona they left a letter addressed to the
Roman Catholic priests, on the altars. At Vicenza their
letter to the priests was returned to them unanswered. At
table d'hote at the inn, where about forty gentlemen of
different nations were present, " the spirit of the Lord
rested on John, when he stood up and addressed
them, and gave them two letters. They appeared much
astonished"

From Milan they made their way to Paris, distributing
tracts and prophecies among the Jews and Catholics, and
strewing them on the altars of the churches. Having
deposited one of these prophecies, not couched in the
most sanguine and complimentary terms, addressed to the
French priest, upon the high altar at Amiens, they nearly
got into trouble. They were arrested at Calais, and their

38 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

baggage overhauled by the police, who had received orders
from the Minister of the Interior to search them for papers
against the Government. But the police-officer, having
looked through their budget of tracts, observed, contempt-
uously, that " they were all on religious subjects," and
let them depart.

John then took all that remained of his tracts and de-
nunciations of woe against the idolators, in Italian and
French, and tore them into small pieces, which he scat-
tered about the streets of Calais, saying "he was com-
manded to do so as a testimony against them." On the
17th December they embarked on the French mail, a
sailing packet, and had a very rough passage. It blew so
hard that they could not reach Dover, but stood off Deal
beach, and a boat conveyed the mail and the passengers
ashore. They had to pay fifteen shillings each to the
watermen, exclusive of their fare in the packet. They
were well drenched with salt water, but John cheered on
William by assuring him that before they reached home
he would see the young woman who was to become his
wife.

On reaching London, Wroe visited some of the Believers,
and prepared the way for a future visit, when he would
meet George Turner face to face. He assembled the
Friends at Gravesend and Chatham, and prophesied before
them, and William Lees at the former place saw the en-
chanting Cordelia Chenne, whom he afterwards married,
thus fulfilling the prediction of Wroe in the billy-boat.
The following year was an eventful one.

In January he received a communication "from the
Spirit" that he was to spend forty days in a dark hole,
and eat nothing but butter and honey, and drink milk.

Prophet Wroe. 39

On the 29th he was publicly baptised in the river Aire,
above Apperley Bridge, by John Brunton, of Bradford, in
the presence of some thirty thousand spectators.

" Both sides of the river were lined with persons of
various ages and denominations. The Spirit had given
John a sign — that on his entering the water the sun should
shine ; for during the two preceding days the weather was
extremely cold, with severe frost accompanied with snow.
The Sunday forenoon on which the ceremony was to take
place continued very wet till noon, and when Wroe arrived
at the brink of the river the sun was still veiled. He
walked down the river, intending to delay till the clouds
broke ; but the people, thinking that he was afraid of the
cold water, roared at him, ' He dussn't go in ! He's
runnin' away ! ' They were all disposed to view the fun,
and they endeavoured to stop Wroe's further progress.
Some friends followed him, urging him not to disappoint
the crowd, and he found that he had better put a bold face
on it, and go in. The sun just then shone forth with a
degree of warmth most unusual at that season of the
year. The musicians and singers began to play and sing,
and he descended into the water. But when preparing to
do so, a cry was raised by the multitude, ' Drown him ! '
The same words were uttered by some young men who had
placed themselves on the branches of a tree adjacent to the
river. John commanded them, in the name of the Lord,
to come down. One of them, named Hudson, who was
formerly John's apprentice, cursed him. Immediately that
part of the bank on which the tree grew gave way, and all
were precipitated into the river. None of them were
drowned, but some had five or six miles to travel home in
their wet clothes; and Hudson, who had cursed John, died

40 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

within a few days after. When John came out of the
water the musicians and singers again performed."

The mob then set on Wroe with sticks, pelted him with
mud, and he and his band of Believers were obliged to
beat a precipitate retreat.

On April 17th, in the same year, he was publicly circum-
cised. This function was introduced and announced by
the band of singers of Ashton-under-Line marching in
procession through the village, playing and singing the
whole way. In the evening the highly unedifying perform-
ance was performed in the meeting-house of the Friends,
" in the presence of the congregation."

On August 30th he was again baptised in the river Med-
lock, near Park Bridge, and on coming out of the river he
stood with one foot in the water, the other on the land,
raised his hands to heaven, and swore that there should be
no more time — in imitation of the angel described in
Revelation (x., 5, 6).

He seems now to have enjoined circumcision on all
male adherents, and reports circulated that several children
had died in consequence. " But," says the Autobiography,
"these reports, with one exception, were entirely false."
The child who died was the son of Robert Grimshaw, of
Hurst Brook, near Ashton. The poor child died six days
after the operation. An inquest was held by the coroner,
and a verdict of manslaughter was returned against Henry
Lees, the operator. He was, however, acquitted at the
Assizes, as the medical evidence was not conclusive that
the wound occasioned by circumcision had caused the
child's death.

On the nth September Wroe received a call to wander
in the fields for fourteen days, and live on nuts, wheat,

Prophet Wroe. 41

blackberries, hips, herbs, and water. But these, as may
well be believed, did not satisfy his hunger. At the
end of this time, which he spent in wandering to Hudders-
field and Oakenshaw, he told his wife " he had a command
from God that she should destroy all pictures, portraits, or
likenesses of anything he had created or caused to grow,
whether of iron, stone, wood, cloth, or paper, and every-
thing of a black colour that could be found within the
house." Which command she, like a dutiful but foolish
wife, obeyed.

He then proceeded to Bradford, and on Sunday the
26th addressed a large congregation which crowded into
the chapel to hear him. It ended in a riot. " John
left the room, accompanied by Elizabeth Elsworth and
Mary Brear, with whom he walked about two hundred
yards, when one of the females received a blow and
was pushed aside. John also was forced along for some
distance. However, they reached the New Inn, where
there were two horses in readiness for John and his
friend. Many of the people were about to enter, but
were prevented by the landlord. Some persons already
in the house said the two females were ' John's women,*
and that he was picking poor people's pockets. The horses
being got ready, the people in the house rushed out, crying
to their persecuting companions, ' Now, lads, he's going ! "
on which they closed the yard gate. John, however, escaped
by another passage. Having succeeded in getting on the
road leading to Great Horton, a cry was raised, ' Kill
him ! kill him ! ' He was then pursued by the mob,
amounting to thousands, some crying out, ' That's the
devil who says he's been living on hips and haws, wheat
and nuts, for fourteen days ! ' He was surrounded , and

42 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

prevented from proceeding. By being preceded by Joseph
Brear, he soon after succeeded in clearing his way, and pro-
ceeding a little further. But he was stopped, the mob
pulling his horse and tearing his clothes. Joseph again
succeeded in clearing the way a little, but was presently
knocked off his horse by a stone ; when remounted, they
proceeded a short distance. John then turned and said
something to the people. John and his horse were then
pulled down and struck ; the bridle and girths were broken
in pieces. He at length succeeded in getting on the
causeway, and resumed his journey on foot; stones and
other missiles were showered against him in all directions.
Some of his companions entertained fears that he never
would reach Horton with life."

The bursting of a storm of rain fortunately dispersed the
mob, and the Prophet escaped. " On arriving at Moses
Elsworth's nearly his whole body was black ; he had also
one of his eyes much discoloured, and received a
cut on his face from a stone." On the following day
he obtained warrants against nineteen of the mob,
who appeared before the magistrate, were bound over to
keep the peace for twelve months, and had to pay all
expenses.

Prophet Wroe now deemed it expedient to visit London.
Accordingly he had a revelation in August, 1825: "Go thou
to Tozer, and stand before him, and prophesy, with thy rod
in thy hand, and say, ' Thus saith the Lord, the Lord thy
God has showed thee many things ; and for this end wast
thou born. The seal thou hast received thou shalt be able
to retain ; but thy body shall go to the dust, and thou shalt
put on incorruption at the first resurrection. . . . Thou
shalt be a witness for Joanna, and thou shalt come with her,

Prophet JVroe. 43

and at that day thou shalt be great unto the ends of the
earth."

On the 28th August, John Wroe, with his faithful
ally, William Lees, visited the chapel of Mr. Lindsay, a
prophet of the congregation of Joanna Southcott in
London. Lindsay received them cordially, and announced
to his congregation that " Brother Wroe " was to have full
liberty to use the chapel morning and afternoon.

Now Tozer was the right-hand man of Lindsay — his
faithful witness, who wrote down the oracles that dropped
from his lips. He was, in fact, to Lindsay what William
Lees was to John Wroe. It was to this Tozer that Wroe
bore the message given above, which was a speech wrapped
up in the most flattering and complimentary language, but a
snub for all that. Mr. Tozer was wont to designate him-
self, " The man clothed in linen, with the writer's inkhorn,"
and believed himself, or endeavoured to induce others to
believe, that he was the person spoken of by the Prophet
Ezekiel (ix., 2) ; and when Mr. Lees appeared on the scene
with a white surplice on and an ink-bottle at his left side
it was a distinct throwing down of the gauntlet, and was
likely to lead to unpleasant results. Foreseeing which,
Wroe wrestled in prayer before the congregation that
''Satan might be rebuked within than walls that day."
Then Wroe stood up and said with a loud voice, " Thus
saith the Lord, There are in this place those whose places
shall be taken by others who have mocked and despised
them. None shall enter but such as are circumcised or
married." Lindsay turned red, trembled, and knocked
over his inkstand. Tozer got up and said, " Friends, what
must be my feelings at this time ? This day of the month,
this day of the week, eleven years ago, I addressed 1500

44 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

people in this city, and since that time the visitation has
been trodden under foot. Eleven days were spoken of by
the Woman — take them to mean years — (see the book, and
find it). God grant that this may be the beginning of the
Gathering." The people answered " Amen." It is evident
he was overawed by Wroe and Lee in his white surplice
and ink-pot.

In the afternoon Wroe was again at the chapel, and again
hinted that there was now a new outpouring upon himself,
and that the old prophets were to yield to him. " Thus
saith the Lord, Many in this place that are first shall be
last." Tozer and Lindsay looked uneasy. " If you will
sign for Satan's destruction, let a man be deputed to Ashton
on the 17th of next month. Many dreams have been
interpreted there ; let the same be sent to those who
profess to be visited, and see who will get an answer in
truth."

Lindsay walked backward and forward, in and out of
the room, whilst John Wroe spoke, but said nothing. At
the conclusion of Wroe's speech, Lindsay, who was greatly
agitated, said, " I have received an order from above to
go and see the Living Skeleton now exhibiting in Pall Mall,
at three o'clock to-morrow, and John, with others, must go
with me. And let so-and-so take his clarionette and pby
a tune before the skeleton, but for what purpose I know
not."

John Wroe answered — " If the Lord hath commanded
me to go, I will go ; if not, I cannot go."

This Living Skeleton was Claude Ambroise Seurat, born
in 1797, who was exhibited in London in 1825. His flesh
had wasted completely away, and when he had attained
his full height he presented the extraordinary spectacle of

PropJiet Wroe. 45

a skeleton covered with skin, alive and able to move and
converse. A portion of Mr. Hones' description of him
must be quoted here : — " He seemed another ' Lazarus
come forth,' without his grave-clothes, and for a moment I
was too consternated to observe more than his general ap-
pearance. My eye then first caught the arm as the most
remarkable limb ; from the shoulder to the elbow it is like
an ivory German flute, somewhat deepened in colour by
age ; it is not larger, and the skin is of that hue, and not
having a trace of muscle, it is as perfect a cylinder as
a writing-rule. Amazed by the wasted limbs, I was still
more amazed by the extraordinary depression of the chest.
Its indentation is similar to that which an over-careful
mother makes in the pillowed surface of an infant's bed for
its repose. Nature has here inverted her own order, and
turned the convex inwards, while the nobler organs, obedi-
ent to her will, maintain life by the gentle exercise of their
wonted functions in a lower region. If the integument of
the bowels can be called flesh, it is the only flesh on the
body ; for it seems to have wholly shrunk from the limbs,
and where the muscles that have not wholly disappeared
remain, they are also shrunk."

That this emaciated object, whose appearance in London
created a sensation, should have been supposed by super-
stitious people, eagerly looking out for portents and
realisations of wild prophecies, to be sent into the
world with some peculiar significance, is not to be
wondered at.

Lindsay seems to have resolved to put Wroe's apostleship
to the proof by a visit to this extraordinary phenomenon,
then exhibiting in the Chinese Pavilion, in Tall Mall.
The Living Skeleton was to have decided between them,

46 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

and confounded him who was the false prophet and
impostor.

But Wroe would not go through this ordeal : he slunk
away, conscious, perhaps, that he was an impostor, and
with superstitious fear of the Walking Skeleton. He
escaped to Greenwich, where he pretended to be ill.

Lindsay, finding Wroe was not at the exhibition, pur-
sued him to Greenwich, and an angry meeting ensued.

Next Sunday, Wroe again invaded the chapel of Lindsay,
who began to prophesy against him, saying, " I say, in the
name of the Lord, you shall shave !" Then John Wroe
took the prophetic rod, and thrusting it towards Lindsay,
thundered forth, " Dost thou come to defy Israel ? The
Lord rebuke thee, Satan !"

Lindsay was silent, but presently tried to create a diver-
sion by setting Wroe and his follower Lees at variance, for
he pointed to the latter and said, " Thus saith the Lord,
This man shall shave, and shall prophesy against his
master." " When will he shave off his beard ?" asked
Wroe indignantly. " When thine is plucked up by the
roots," answered Lindsay. The scene was becoming un-
dignified. The prophets seemed to be aware of it, and
that it was necessary to patch the matter up ; so Lindsay
said, " You see the spirits seem to differ a little ; it is we
who do not understand how they work and move."

By degrees Wroe succeeded in obtaining recognition as
the Prophet from the majority of Joanna Southcott's con-
gregations. The faithful men wore long beards, " the city
mark," as it was called, and white linen vestments at the
religious meetings in their tabernacles.

George Turner had succeeded Joanna Southcott ; he
was succeeded by William Shaw, and then Wroe received

Prophet Wroe. 47

general acknowledgment. He announced that his mission
would last forty years, and that at the expiration of this
period Shiloh would come.

As soon as he was acknowledged as Prophet, he had
a power in his hands which he did not fail to exercise. In
1830 he announced that he had received orders from
heaven that seven virgins should be delivered to him
to comfort and cherish him, and three of his believers
at once gave him up their daughters. With these poor
girls and some married women Wroe wandered from place
to place. They were with him in Kent, in Devonshire, in
Lancashire, and Yorkshire — wherever Wroe pretended that
he was called. The matter became scandalous, and the
confidence of several of the members of the community
was shaken. The girls were questioned, and made shock-
ing disclosures. Two of the Society, named Masterman
and Walker, rose in the congregation at Ashton, on Feb-
ruary 27th, 1831, and charged him with profligacy. Wroe
could not stand against the storm ; he escaped through
a trap-door in the orchestra, amidst cat-calls, jeers, and
howls. He remained secreted in Ashton a few days, and
then left the place for ever.

The confidence of his faithful disciple Lees was some-
what dashed shortly before this by an exposjre of the
Prophet at Manchester. Lees had a friend at Manchester
with whom he did business. Wroe used to spend much of
his time in Lees' house. The Prophet announced to Lees
that he was called by the Spirit on a mission, but that
he had no money. Lees called a covenant meeting, and
the sum of eighty pounds was raised, and placed at the
disposal of the Prophet, who departed with it in his. Now
it happened that Lees' friend did business at a certain

48 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

public-house in Manchester, and having noticed Wroe there
and being shortly after at Ashton, he asked Lees where the
Prophet was. Lees told him that he had gone on a
mission. His friend laughed, and said, " Come with me
and you shall see him."

With difficulty he persuaded Lees to get into a cab with
him and drive to Manchester to the public-house. The
two men went in, opened the door into a back parlour, and
found the Prophet sitting by the fire, in his low-crowned
brown hat and long coat, between two low women, drinking
hot whiskey and water with them. The landlord informed
them that Wroe had been there several days. Lees went
home, burned his white robe, destroyed all his books and
tracts belonging to the Society, shaved off his beard, and
next Sunday was in the parish church, which he had been
in the habit of attending before he fell under the influence
of Wroe.

But his humiliation did not end here. His daughter
gave promise of becoming a mother by Wroe. In vain
did the Prophet assure him that the child that would be
born was the promised Shiloh. It turned out to be a girl.
Lees put Wroe out of his doors.

It was soon after this that the Prophet was met by
Masterman and Walker, and the scandal of the virgins was
exposed.

Lees, hearing that Wroe was coming to Ashton, exas-
perated at the dishonour of his daughter and the dupe that
had been made of himself, stationed himself behind a
chimney and fired a gun at Wroe. The ball whizzed past
his hat, and fortunately did him no injury. But the rumour
of these scandals, and the death of a child named Wood
whom he had circumcised, caused a riot at Bradford when

Prophet Wroe. 49

he visited it shortly after. The mob broke into the taber-
nacle, tore up the benches, smashed the windows, and
would have maltreated Wroe if they could have caught
him ; but the wary Prophet made his escape in time.

One day in July he had a vocation to go on a mission.
He was then living at Pudsey. His followers raised him a
handsome sum to defray his expenses, and he departed.
After he had gone, it was observed that his wife passed a
certain public- house in the neighbourhood every day. This
was unusual, and it was agreed to watch her. After John
Wroe had been gone fourteen days, she was followed at a
distance. She went down a valley to a corn-field and
made a signal, whereupon Wroe was observed to creep out
of the standing corn. His wife opened her reticule and
produced a dish of new potatoes and a mutton-chop, and
a four-ounce bottle of wine. The Prophet drew a horse-
rug out from the corn, and prepared to seat himself on it
and enjoy his dinner, when the spies rushed upon him,
■carried him in triumph into Pudsey, set him on a donkey,
rode him through the town, then tied a rope round his
body, threw him into a horse -pond, pulled him out, and
threw him in again and again ; till the women, seeing him
nearly exhausted, interfered and begged him to be spared.

When he was living at Bowling he had a trance which
lasted ten or twelve days. He lay apparently insensible on
a. stump bedstead, and people came from far and wide to
see him. At the foot of the bed was a basket in which
the visitors deposited silver and copper ; and all who came
were expected to give a trifle. There was a fixed hour at
•which the cottage door was opened and closed, and when
it was closed the key was turned in the lock, and no one
•was admitted on any excuse.

E

50 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

It unfortunately happened that one night Mrs. Wroe
went out for some purpose or other, and left the door un-
fastened behind her, intending to return in a minute. A
man named Holt and his son lived close by. As they saw
Mrs. Wroe go out, they and a neighbour who was with them
thought the opportunity was not to be neglected, and
opened the door of Wroe's house and peeped cautiously in..
To their surprise John was sitting very comfortably in the
ingle-nook, eating beef-steak, pickled cabbage, and oat-
cake.* Next day he was laid on his bed as usual in a
trance, and so he continued for three or more days. One
of the visitors wished to thrust a needle under Wroe's nail,
to prove if he were perfectly sensible, but his wife would
not permit it.

Another of his devices for raising money was not more-
honest. He announced that the Lord had declared to
him that every member of the Society of the house of
Israel was to wear a gold ring of the value of £i 3s. 6d.,
which was to be procured from the Prophet, and it was to
be a sign and a seal to them that they were the elect. This
was in 1856, and all the members were supplied with gold
rings by 1857. At this time the number of the members
was thought to be about 6000, of whom 700 were in
Ireland.

Unfortunately for the credit of the Prophet, towards the
end of 1856 one of the members, who had not wholly lost
his common-sense, thought it advisable to have his gold
ring tested with nitric acid, and the startling discovery was
made that the rings were not of gold at all, nor worth a florin
each. Wroe threw the blame on the goldsmith who had

* My informant, who knew Wroe well, says: "J. Holt, the young
man who saw this, told it me. He is now living at Bradford."

Prophet Wroe. 51

provided him with them, and ordered that no more should
be issued.

About 1854 John Wroe said he had a command from
the Lord to build a mansion. The treasury of the " House
of Israel " was empty ; so the pillars of the Church met,
and on consultation agreed to let YVioe have the Flying
Roll money. This was a fund to which, after the death of
Joanna Southcott, all sealed members paid according to
their income or ability. It was a sacred fund retained by
the Society for the purpose of publishing the Eternal Gospel
and sending it to all parts of the world, proclaiming the
millennium, the outpouring of the Spirit, and the Great
Desolation. This eternal Gospel was to be published
forty years after the death of Joanna.* The sum amounted
to a large amount — over two thousand pounds.

Wroe bought a piece of land on a height near Wakefield,
and on this began to build. The house, said Wroe, was
to be dedicated to the Lord, and was to belong to the
members of the " House of Israel " gathered out of all
nations. No architect was to be employed. It was to be
built as the Spirit directed.

Subscription-books were issued to all the sanctuaries.
Every member's contribution was to be entered separately,
and no man was to know what his neighbour gave. The
poorest workman was to contribute not less than 10 per

* Is it more than a coincidence that the Southcottites should reproduce
the forms and terminology of a heresy of the fourteenth century? The
Abbot Joachim was the prophet then, and his " Eternal Gospel " pro-
claimed precisely the same doctrines as the "Eternal Gospel" of
Joanna. This heresy invaded the ranks of the Franciscans, and pro-
duced a tremendous schism, which ended in the prescription of the
Fraticelli. For an account of the Abbot Joachim and the Eternal
Gospel see Hahn, " Ketzer Geschichte,'' ii. and iii. ; and Dean Mil-
man's "Latin Christianity."

52 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

cent, of his earnings.* All extra gifts were to be sent to
John Wroe at Wrenthorpe, near Wakefield, and those who
did not wish to pay to the local treasurers might send their
subscriptions direct to the Prophet.

During 1855 and 1856 post-office orders poured in from
all parts, and it was said in Wakefield at the time that
Wroe had more orders cashed than all the tradesmen of
the town put together.

The female members of the Society were to furnish the
mansion. They were not to tell their husbands how much
they gave ; and many put down their names for sums which
they really could not pay, and had to sell goods and borrow
cash to keep up their payments to the end of 1856.!

The land was bought of Mr. William Ramsden, farmer,
of Wrenthorpe, and was conveyed by Mr. Haigh, solicitor,
of Horbury, to John Wroe, and not to the Society. A
farm of upwards of a hundred acres was bought in addi-
tion, and was conveyed to himself.

The rumour of this produced some uneasiness among
the members, and twenty of them waited on the Prophet
to question him about the conveyance. He spoke them
fair, assured them that the mansion and land would go
to the Society, and in their presence drew up a will wherein
he devised the whole estate to the Society. Messrs. Snell,
Currey, Gill, and Farren, leading members and pillars of
the Church, witnessed it, and departed in satisfaction to
their homes. A fortnight after, Wroe sent for a solicitor of

* The members were obliged to keep books of their earnings, and
exhibit them, to prove that they paid 10 per cent, to Wroe.

+ This information comes from some of those who were thus vic-
timised. Some members turned total abstainers, others vegetarians, to
economise money in order to pay their subscriptions.

Prophet Wroe, 53

Wakefield, and privately drew up a new will, cancelling the
old one, and in this latter will he devised the mansion and
ninety-eight acres of land to his grandson, James Wroe;
and to his daughters, Susanna and Sarah, property pro-
ducing about ^50 per annum to each ; and to his only
son Joseph property of the value of £60 per annum.

The mansion was designed somewhat in the style of
Melbourne Town Hall. It cost upwards of ^2000, but
need not have cost half as much. When Wroe saw how the
money poured in, he had the north-east wing taken com-
pletely down, and enlarged the building. Much of the
work was done two or three times over. The glazier (Mr.
Slater) had a contract to do all the glazing, and as soon as
his contract was finished, Wroe contracted with Mr. Slater
to take every square of glass out again, and put good plate-
glass into the windows instead.

Wroe found he could not get on without an architect,
and therefore employed Mr. Thorpe, of Wakefield, and
worried him out of all endurance. Wroe visited Australia
in 1850, 1854, 1859, and 1S62. He was in America in
1840, 1S48, 1853, and 1S59. His wife died May 16th,
1853, aged seventy-four years, a fortnight after he left for
America. He is said to have treated her badly. On his
travels he assumed different names ; sometimes he called
himself Johanan Asrael, sometimes Yokkow or Yockaman.

He obtained the name of " Pudding Wroe " among the
urchins of Wakefield and Bradford ; the origin of this was
as follows : — After one of his long trances, he began to walk
about, and was asked by acquaintances concerning his health
and appetite, and "What could be eat or fancy?" His
invariable answer was, " Xowt but pudding "

The boys used to shout after him — " Pudding Wrce," cr

54 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

" Nowt but pudding," and this highly incensed the Prophet.
One day, after he had had this cry ringing in his ears, he
came home, and, standing in the door, saw the table laid
for dinner, and his wife and children ready in their places.
" What is for dinner to-day ?" asked Wroe.

" Nowt but pudding ! " shouted the incautious children.
Wroe flew into a passion, and said to his wife, " I'll tell
thee what, lass, I wi'nt have yon stuff called pudding ony
more."

" Why, lad ! " said Mrs. Wroe, " what are t' bairns to call
it, then ? "

'' They mun call it soft meat" answered John.

Wroe purchased a handsome mule with a long flowing
tail, and a basket carriage. The harness was of the best
kind, with silver buckles, &c One day when Wroe drove
to Sandal, and left his mule and carriage outside the house
where he had business, some evil-disposed persons shaved
the mule's tail. Wroe raved and threatened, but could not
find the guilty parties. He never went near Sandal after-
wards.

The following is Wroe's receipt for curing a cold : — Put
two gallons of boiling water in a large bottle, and place a
funnel on the neck; put your face in the mouth of the
funnel, and throw a blanket over your head; thus you
inhale the steam, and are thrown into a perspiration.

Wroe would put a pillow in the oven, lay his head on it,
and let the oven be heated as hot as he could bear it, to
drive away a head cold.

In his last voyage to Australia, in 1862, he fell upon the
deck of the ship when it was rolling, and dislocated his
shoulder. The doctor set it, but it soon fell out of place
again, and never was right after.

Prophet Wroe. 55

On the day of his death, which occurred at Fitzroy, in
Australia, he had been out walking as usual, and seemed in
his wonted health. On his return from a walk he seated
himself in his chair, and suddenly fell forward on the floor,
and was taken up a corpse. He had been collecting money
in Australia ; and directly it was rumoured that Wroa was
dead, all the members in Melbourne demanded back their
money, and threatened to roughly handle Benjamin
Eddow, Wroe's companion and secretary, unless he
restored the subscriptions. He was obliged to surrender
some of the cash, and to conceal himself. He got away the
following day, and remained hidden in a blacksmith's shop
till he could find a ship on which to get back to England,
lie brought with him between six and seven hundred
pounds. The Melbourne Society complained that Wroe
had not kept faith with them, for he had promised them he
would never die

56

Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

BISHOP-DYKE POND*

N the Monday following Palm Sunday, being
the 14th of April, 1690, William Banvick, a
man living in Cawood, a village a few miles
south of York, on the Ouse, below its junction
with the Wharfe, took his wife a stroll along a pleasant lane
leading to Bishop Wood, then an extensive tract of forest
trees, and even now one of the wildest and most picturesque
spots in the neighbourhood of Selby.

Mary Barwick was expecting her confinement at no great
distance of time. William made her walk before him;
they crossed the little bridge over Bishop's Dyke, and
entered a close or field where was a pond. It was sur-
rounded by thick rushes, and the willows were covered
with their silken tufts, unrified by the children for " palms "
on the preceding day.

William Barwick looked round. No one was in sight.
He seized his wife, threw her into the pond, and did not
let go his hold till she was drowned. When he was quite
satisfied that life was extinct, he drew the body out of the
water, and concealed it among the rushes which lay between

* J. Aubery, in his "Miscellanies upon Various Subjects/' 1696,
gives the particulars of this curious story.

Bishop-Dyke Pond. 5 7

the water and the quickvvood hedge. He then returned
home.

At dusk he revisited the spot, and taking a hay-spade
from a rick that stood in the field, he made a hole by the
side of the pond, and there buried the poor woman in her
clothes. What was the motive which actuated William
Barwick does not transpire.

Next day Barwick visited his brother-in-law at Rufforth,.
three miles east from York, a man named Thomas Loft-
house, who had married the sister of poor Mary Barwick,
and told him that his wife Mary had gone to his uncler
Richard Harrison, in Selby, where she was likely to remain
for some time.

Lofthouse gave no thought to this announcement.
Whether he supposed that Barwick was in difficulties, and it
was likely to prove advantageous to his wife that she should
be confined in Selby instead of at home, where she could
have more comforts ; or whether he thought there had been
a quarrel, and the announcement of Barwick intimated
a separation, I do not know. At all events, the statement
of Barwick caused no surprise to his brother-in-law, nor
did it arouse any suspicion of foul play in his mind.

Exactly a week after that visit, on Tuesday in Easter
week, about half-past twelve o'clock in the afternoon,
Thomas Lofthouse, having occasion to water a quickset
hedge not far from his house, brought water for the
purpose in a pail. As he was going for the second pailful,
he suddenly observed a woman, in shape like his sister-in-
law, going before him towards the pond. He was startled,
but hardly thought at the moment that he saw a ghost.
The figure glided before him, and seated itself on a rising
green bank right over against the pond ; he walked before

58 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

her as he went to the pond, and as he returned with the
pail full of water he looked sideways to see if the figure
was still there. He saw the face — it was that of Mary Bar-
wick, but deadly pale; the lips bloodless, the teeth
showing, and the eyes fixed on something white, which he
thought was a bag at the time, but afterwards supposed to
be a baby, which she seemed to be dandling. As soon as
he had emptied his pail, he went into his yard, and stood
still to see if the figure was still in the same spot ; but by
this time it had vanished.

Lofthouse said nothing about what he had seen till
evening. He was saying family prayers that night before
retiring to rest, when, in praying for their friends and rela-
tions, he came to the name of his sister-in-law. He
faltered, trembled, his voice broke down, and he could
■scarcely conclude his devotions.

When he went to bed he told his wife everything, and
the poor woman was dreadfully alarmed. She implored her
husband next day to go to Selby and see Richard Harrison,
at whose house Barwick had said his wife was staying. He
promised to do so, and on the morrow early saddled his
horse and rode to Selby. His nearest road was by York,
■Cawood, and Wiston; but he had no mind to meet
William Barwick, and he therefore took the high road fro-p
York by Escrick, Riccal, and Barlby.

On reaching Selby he soon ascertained that poor Mary
Barwick had never been there. On his return he went to
the Lord Mayor of York ; and having obtained a warrant,
.got Barwick apprehended and brought before the Mayor.
The wretched man then acknowledged what he had done,
and his confession was written down and signed in the
presence of the Lord Mayor. To this were annexed the

Bishop-Dyke Pond. 59

depositions of Lofthouse, and Barwick was consigned
to York Castle.

These depositions are of sufficient interest to be here
given verbatim : —

u The Information of Thomas Lofthouse, of Rufforth,
taken upon oath the twenty-fourth day of April, 1690;
who sayeth and deposeth, —

"That one William Barwick, who lately married this
informant's wife's sister, came to this informant's house
about the 14th instant, and told this informant he had
carried his wife to one Richard Harrison's house in Selby,
who was uncle to him, and would take care of her ; and
this informant, hearing nothing of the said Barwick's wife,
his said sister-in-law, imagined he had done her some mis-
chief, did yesterday go to the said Harrison's house in
Selby, where he said he had carried her to ; and the said
Harrison told this informant he knew nothing of the said
Barwick or his wife ; and this informant doth verily believe
the said Barwick to have murdered her.

" Thomas Lofthouse.

" Jurat die et anno super dicto coram me.

"S. Dawson. Mayor."

"The examination of the said William Barwick, taken
the day and year abovesaid, who sayeth and con-
fessed,—

"That he, this examinant, on Monday was seventh
night, about two o'clock in the afternoon, this examinant
was walking in a close betwixt Cawood and Wiston ; and
he farther sayeth that he threw his said wife into the pond,
where she was drowned ; and the day following, towards

60 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

evening, got a hay-spade at a hay-stake in the said close,
and made a grave beside the said pond, and buried her.

" William Barwick.

11 Exam. capt. die et anno super diet, coram me.

"S. Dawson, Mayor."

" The Examination of William Barwick, taken the twenty-
fifth day of April, 1690, who sayeth and confesseth, —

u That he carried his wife over a certain wain-bridge,
called Bishop-Dike Bridge, betwixt Cawood and Sherborne,
and within a lane about one hundred yards from the said
bridge, and on the left hand of the said bridge, he and his
wife went over a stile, on the left-hand side of a certain
gate entering into a certain close, on the left hand of the
said lane; and in a pond in the said close, adjoining to a
quickwood hedge, did drown his wife, and upon the bank
of the said pond did bury her ; and further, that he was
within sight of Cawood Castle, on the left hand ; and that
there was but one hedge betwixt the said close where he
drowned his said wife and the Bishop-slates belonging to
the said castle.

" William Barwick.

u Exam. capt. die et anno super diet, coram me.

"S. Dawson, Mayor."

William Barwick was tried and convicted before Sir John
Powell, Knight, at the Summer Assizes held in York on
the 18th of September, 1690.

" On Tuesday, September the seventeenth, 1690, at York
Assizes, Thomas Lofthouse, of Rufforth, within three
miles of York city, sayeth, —

" That on Easter Tuesday last, about half an hour after

Bishop-Dyke Pond. 6 1

twelve of the clock in the daytime, he was watering quick-
wood, and as he was going for the second pail there
appeared, walking before him, an apparition in the shape of
a woman. Soon after, she sat down over against the pond,
on a green hill ; he walked by her as he went to the pond,
and as he came with the pail of water from the pond, look-
ing sideways to see if she sat in the same place, which he
saw she did ; and had on her lap something like a white
bag, a-dandling of it (as he thought), which he did not
observe before. After he had emptied his pail of water, he
stood in his yard to see if he could see her again, but could
not. He says her apparel was brown cloathes, waistcoat
and petticoat, a white hood, uch as his wife's sister usually
wore, and her face looked extream pale, her teeth in sight,
no gums appearing, her visage being like his wife's sister,
and wife to William Barwick.

(Signed) " Thomas Lofthouse."

When Barwick ascended the gallows to be hung he told
the hangman that he hoped the rope was strong enough, as
if it should break with his weight he would fall to the
ground and become a cripple for life. His apprehensions,
however, were soon quieted, for the hangman assured him
he might venture upon it with perfect confidence.

After he was dead the body was hung in chains by the
pond where the murder had been committed.

62

Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

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SNOWDEN DUNHILL,

THE CONVICT.

HE following life of a thief and housebreaker,
written by himself, is curious and sad.* The
talent it exhibits, and the real feeling which
peeps out here and there, show that the
man, had he been better brought up, and subjected in
early youth to religious influences, might have made of
him a man very superior to the ordinary agricultural
labourer. The man cannot have been deficient in his
secular education. His style is singularly good for one in
his class, but of moral education he had none. The only
religion he knew of was that of his wife, Sally Dunhill, a
fanatic, who combined hysterical piety with gross dis-
honesty : —

" I was born at a small village on the Wolds in the East
Riding of Yorkshire. The earliest circumstance of which I
have any remembrance is that of following bare-headed
and on foot, a waggon containing furniture belonging to a
farmer who was removing to the village of Spaldingtcn,
near Howden. Of my parents I have but an indistinct
remembrance, for I never returned to them, but continued

• "The Life of Snowden Dunhill, written by Himself." Howden.
1S33.

Snoivden Dunhill, the Convict. 6 x

y

to reside in the village of my adoption, and principally ia
the house of the family I had accompanied.

" Spaldington is a secluded and purely agricultural village-.
My earliest recollections are connected with the old hall at
that place, a fine building, erected in the time of Queen
Elizabeth. This house, with its peaked roof, ornamented
with large round stones, its moats, its rookery, and the
reputation of being haunted by a fairy, is yet strongly
impressed upon my memory. But the old seat of the De
la Hayes, the Vescis, and the Vavasours totters to its fall.

" I well remember the tradition which prevailed in the
village, that one of the De Vescis was a competitor for the
crown of Scotland, he having married a daughter of the
King of that country. The burthen of an old song, which
is supposed to relate to some eventful battle in which De
Vesci bore a conspicuous part, still clings to my memory,
and now, with a world between me and the spot, I often
catch myself humming the chorus —

" ' And the drums they did beat, and the trumpets did sound,
And the cannons did roar fit to tear up the ground;
For its oh ! brave, gallant, and brave,
For the honour of England's crown.' "

Snowden Dunhill's youth was spent much as that of other
rural bumpkins ; he wrestled, played football, and was pas-
sionately fond of cock-fighting.

One day, when only six years old, he saved the life of a
little companion with whom he was playing by the side of
the moat round the Old Hall at Spaldington. The child
fell into the water, sank, and rose for the last time, when
little Snowden, with great pluck, jumped in after his play-
mate, and caught him by the dress. The two children
struggled in the water, and the drowning boy nearly

64 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

dragged little Snowden under. But Snowden maintained
his hold, and succeeded in dragging his comrade to the
bank.

At fourteen or fifteen Snowden Dunhill, being a strong
lad, was taken into a small farmhouse to work for his food
and clothes.

His master died shortly after, but his widow carried on
the farm. She was very poor, the farm was small, and the
widow took her meals with the farm servants in the
kitchen.

Dunhill was given no pocket-money, and, as he kept
fighting-cocks and liked occasionally to go to the public-
house to have a game of balls, he was driven to obtain
money by theft.

" During this time I practised a variety of petty thefts
without being suspected. I took apples, eggs, or anything
I could lay my hands on, and the corn which ought to have
been given to the horses found its way to my game cocks,
of which I had several. These acts, which are generally
practised by farmers' servants, were confirmed into a habit
before I had begun to think them wrong. The education
of this class is so utterly neglected, and their morals so
little attended to, that I have long been satisfied that the
honesty of the rural districts is very much inferior to that
of the towns.

"My next step in life — the most important one to all — was
marriage, and mine assuredly deepened the darkest shades
of my character. It was not a connexion of the heart, but
one almost of fear, for the woman to whom I paid my ad-
dresses was the being who ruled me from the first moment
of our acquaintance. Had it been my fortune to have met
with an honest and industrious woman, my destiny might

Snow den DunJiill, the Convict. 65

have been different. But if, as the proverb says, ' Marriages
are made in heaven,' it does not become me to complain.

" We lived a short time in the village of Spaldington, but
one farmer missed his corn, the wife of another her poultry,
a third her apples, and a fourth her bees ; when the bees
were missed I fancy they thought nothing could escape us.
They were easily moved and carried into our cottage, but
the buzzing, the stinging, and the bother of the business,
determined me never again to attempt a similar under-
taking. The proverb of running your head into a swarm of
bees has ever since appeared to me the most forcible in
the English language.

" We were then put into a house in the lanes of Spalding-
ton, in the road between Howden and Market-Weighton,
apart from any other residence, and in the very best situa-
tion that could have been chosen if the farmers had
wished us to continue our system of plunder. I had never
been accustomed to work, and I had now very little wish
to learn. The new connexions which I speedily formed
put me in the way of obtaining a better though more pre-
carious subsistence.

11 1 continued to live in the cottage above alluded to, and
my family increasing rapidly, rendered it necessary to ex-
tend my operations. The farmers in the neighbourhood
were at first the greatest sufferers, and there was scarcely a
barn or granary within several miles which I had not the
means of entering when I chose. Either from discarded
servants, or from labourers who were daily about the farm-
houses, I got all the information 1 wanted.

"At this time I was master of two good horses, and I had
a numerous connexion among servants and labourers. But
what I found most useful was a secret understanding with

F

66 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

two or three millers, by whose means I got rid of all the corn
which I stole. Millers are generally reputed to be great
rogues, but in their dealings with me I found them quite
the contrary. The most dishonest persons with whom
I had dealings were the attorneys, and they stripped me of
the fruits of my toil with most surprising expedition and
facility. This, however, will be seen in the sequel.

" About this time I was concerned in a robbery at Bub-
with, by which I obtained a considerable sum of money.
After our arrangements were made, a comrade entered the
house through a back window, by taking an iron bar out of
the frame, the wood being quite rotten from age and damp.
In scrambling in he kicked from the shelf a large earthen-
ware vessel, and immediately after he himself tumbled head
foremost into the pantry, a depth of six or seven feet. The
uproar occasioned by his fall caused us to take to our heels
and make to our horses, which were at no great distance,
in a large field behind the house. We laid down and
listened for a considerable time, and hearing nothing, we
approached the house again by degrees, and eventually got
up to the very window. A low whistle from me was
instantly answered, which at once told us all went well. We
found the back door open for us, and our comrade, no way
alarmed, busy rummaging some drawers, and putting into a
sack everything he took a fancy to.

"As I had formerly lived in the service of a near rela-
tion of the old lady to whom the house belonged (I had
forgotten to say it was a widow lady's house we took the
liberty with), I found no difficulty in laying my hands upon
the tinder-box, candles, and everything else. It was an
exceedingly stormy night, or I think we must have been
heard, for we carried a chest of drawers out of the house

Snowden Dnnhilly the Convict. 67

and actually beat them to pieces, not being able to open
them. I knew that she had a considerable sum of money,
and I hoped we had found it, but it turned out to be a box
of farthings ; and I was afterwards exceedingly provoked on
learning that we had missed three hundred guineas in gold
which the old lady had in her lodging room. I also
learned that she had a presentiment that she would be
robbed, and made an observation to that effect the day
before — one of those curious anticipating feelings for which
I know not how to account, but which have in several
instances happened to myself, when coming events, as it
were, cast their shadows before.

u But to return to our adventure. After helping our-
selves to such things as we thought of most value, and
such as could be most easily conveyed away on our horses,
and drinking the good old lady's health in some excellent
home-made wine, we mounted our horses, with four sacks
filled with many things of value. We took a route so as to
avoid the toll-bars and public roads, and reached my house
just as the sun was beginning to chase away the darkness
which had proved so propitious to us. Having instantly
buried all the things, my companions departed, and all was
soon ready for the reception of any of those enemies of my
profession, the constables, should they pay us a visit.
However, none came, and though I was generally sup-
posed to be the person who did the deed, no steps
were taken to make it out against me. This is one of
the very few exploits of the kind I was ever engaged
in, and as to highway robberies, I never dreamed of
committing one.

" I had now accumulated a considerable sum of money,
which I lent out on note to several farmers in the neigh-

68 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

bourhood, most of whom, from fear or other considerations,
were glad to be on good terms with me. Such occurrences
as the following frequently happened : — ' Well, Snowden,

how do you do ? ' would Farmer say, meeting me in

the street towards dusk on a market-day. ' Are you going
home to-night?' 'Aye, my lad,' was my general reply.
' I wanted to see you/ retorted the farmer, ' I have just
received fifty pounds for some oats ; I wish you would take
care of it for me, and I will ask you for it again some day
when I meet you.' I took charge of the money, and was
ever most punctual in returning it. I could not help laugh-
ing, however, at the odd mixture of feelings that must have
dictated such a choice of a banker. I dare say some of
these very farmers have since met with bankers not quite so
punctual in their payments as I was in mine.

" I was once busily employed in coursing a hare when I

was pounced upon by a Mr. . He came suddenly

upon me, with so many violent denunciations that I was for
a time really in a fright. However, I eventually recovered
my recollection, and had the good sense to leave him with-
out giving way to any abusive language in reply. I secretly,
however, resolved to have my revenge, and that in a way at
once in accordance with my profession and my own interest.
I ordered two or three of the persons I could place the
most reliance in to be ready to accompany me with their
horses to Foggathorpe, the village in which I think the
gentleman resided. I had long had a key of his granary,
in which I knew he had recently stored a quantity of wheat
of the finest quality, and for which the soil of that village is
much famed.

" We had already been up to the granary once with our
horses, having taken them loaded away, and secreted several

Snowden Dunhill, the Convict. 69

sacks of wheat in a wood a little from the turnpike road,
and about three miles from the house. We had filled our
sacks a second time, and got them upon the horses, having
previously placed everything in the granary as we found
it, or as nearly so as we could. I had just thrown my legs
over my horse, then standing near the steps of the granary,
I being the last of the party, when I heard the gentleman's
voice, which I at once knew, for neither his early habit of
rising nor the tone of his voice were unknown to me. It
was quite dark, and I proceeded with great care on the way
towards the high road till I reached a gate about seventy or
eighty yards from his house. By some mismanagement on
my part, I had no sooner passed through the gate than it
fell back into its place with considerable noise. I again
heard his voice, but I made the best of my way with my
load, and I felt no little relief when I found myself in the
Market- Weighton turnpike road. Though I had no very
great opinion of the gentleman's courage, I felt quite sure
he would have used every endeavour to make out the charge
against me had his suspicions of what had taken place been
once roused. As to his following me alone at that moment
I had not the most distant fear, for I knew well the care he
always took of himself. However, the whole affair passed
over. I never heard that he missed what we took away, and
the reason probably was, that he at that very time had a
large stock of wheat on hand for the purpose of speculation.
as I afterwards learned. I remember this wheat was of
such singular good quality that I sold it for the great sum
of one guinea and ninepence the bushel, a price I scarcely
ever remember to have equalled.

" The next thing that occurs to me worthy of remark,
and which I had good cause to remember, nearly termi-

jo Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

nated fatally for myself. I expected a good booty from
the information I had previously received. This was an
attack upon the property of two bachelors who resided in
the same house, in a village about a mile and a half from
Howden. The house was very near the river Ouse, and
we had prepared a boat to carry the gains of the night
down the river as far as Swinefleet, this being considered,
for many reasons, the readiest mode of moving it from the
premises, and I had some friends in that place in whom I
placed the greatest confidence. Between one and two
o'clock we arrived at the house, and were preparing all
things in readiness for the business in hand. I was crossing
from the bank of the river over a garden, and so on to the
back of the premises. In my way I came to a piece of
dead fence, over which I was passing, and which gave a
crackling sound under my tread. At that moment I heard
a dog bark, and instantly after a shot was fired from the
upper part of the eastern end of the house. I had my
face at the time rather turned away from the place whence
the shot proceeded, and I received the whole of the con-
tents in my back and shoulders. I instantly fell ; and I
well remember that I thought all was over with me, as I
lay for some time with my head in the ditch and my feet
upon the dead thorns over which I had just passed, and to
which I attributed my mishap ; for the night was so dark I
could not be seen, and the shot must have been directed to
the noise I made in getting over the fence. As I lay there
I could distinctly hear a whispering from a small door in
the end of the house, and I greatly feared lest the inmates
should sally forth and take me in my defenceless state.
With my head laid upon the ground, the sensation pro-
duced upon me by the striking of two o'clock by the

Snowden Dunhill, the Convict. 7 r

church of Howden, I well remember. All was now calm,
quiet, and dark ; and I actually felt the earth vibrate under
my ear as the hollow bell threw over the land its sullen
sound. I have understood, since I came here, that the
savages in America always resort to this mode of listen-
ing for the approach of a friend or an enemy. But to
return to myself again.

" I at length contrived with great difficulty to get upon
my feet ; and, with still greater exertion and much loss of
blood, I reached the boat, where I found my men in great
consternation and alarm. One of them pushed the boat
adrift, and the tide soon carried it away with the waters.
They then supported me at a slow pace to Howden, where
I arrived almost in a state of insensibility, from the com-
bined effects of pain and loss of blood. By my desire
they took me to the house of a medical man of my
acquaintance, and knocked at his door. He soon came
down, and without asking a single question, stripped me ;
and during the night he extracted no fewer than thirty-
eight large shot corns from my back and shoulders.

" I cannot even now recall the agony I suffered without a
shudder; and my general health and strength never re-
covered from the shock I received. I remained secluded
for a considerable time, but thanks to the attentive care of
my wife, and my own sober habits, for I never was an
habitual drunkard, I speedily was able to get out again. In
all my night excursions after this adventure I employed the
greatest circumspection.

" My inward disposition was accurately betokened by
my countenance and outward appearance. I was tall and
large-limbed, but neither clumsily nor powerfully made. I
speak now of forty years of age ; for sufferings, mental and

72 Yoi'ksJrire Oddities and Incidents.

bodily, have entirely changed my face and figure. My hair
was light, my eyes a bluish grey, my countenance round
and somewhat florid. In my looks I always fancied that I
resembled two men of no little celebrity — I mean Sir
Walter Scott and William Cobbett, who certainly bear a
considerable resemblance to each other. But this may be
my vanity, for the best of us are not free from it.

" In my manners I was boisterous, and in tone familiar
with all, and overbearing with most. However, my general
appearance promised anything but cruelty and dishonesty ;
and, thank God, no one can charge me with the former,
whatever may be said of the latter.

" I must, however, plead guilty to one or two acts of
apparent cruelty towards my horses, but which rather rose
from the necessity of self-preservation than from any other
cause. It has often happened to me, for the purpose of
reaching a given place by a certain hour of the night, to be
compelled to strain my horse to the full extent of his speed.
I knew so well the general opinion entertained towards
me, that I felt I must find the greatest difficulty in
clearing myself from anything like a reasonable suspicion
of crime.

" I distinctly remember once having upon me a con-
siderable sum of money, and I was riding at full speed
upon a narrow strip of green sward by the road side, which
was nearly covered by the extended branches of the trees.
The moon was shining beautifully through them, and in
contemplating her I felt a soothing calmness spread over
my soul, which I cannot well account for or explain the
cause of. My musings were suddenly cut short by a deep-
drawn sigh from my horse, then a slight shudder, and the
next moment he was dead under me. I cried like a

Snow den Dunhill, the Convict. j$

child. I raised his head, but all in vain, no trace of life
remained.

u By the moon's rays, which at that instant shot through
an opening in a dark Scots fir immediately over his head,
I saw the film of death rapidly spread over his eyes, and felt
his limbs stiffen under my grasp. I had to travel several
miles on foot, pretty well loaded, and through a very lonely
and suspicious-looking part of the country. However, I
reached the house of one of my friends towards morning,
to his no small astonishment, he thinking me fifty miles
distant in a different direction.

" My horse was soon recognised ; and had any robbery
been perpetrated within a reasonable distance of the place
where he fell, of course it must have been done by me. The
common question of the whole neighbourhood was, ' What
had I been doing?' However, this never transpired. I
ever afterwards tied a piece of raw beef round the bit of
my bridle when about to make hard use of my horse, and I
always thought that it afforded him considerable help. I
need not observe that this was done in imitation of poor
Dick Turpin, whose history is infinitely better known than
mine can ever pretend to be.

11 On the night of the 25th of October, 1812, I felt a pre-
sentiment that something sinister was about to happen to
me. Few men have passed through life, particularly those
of an excitable temperament, who have not felt some
boding of this kind. I was seated in my chair by the fire,
taking my accustomed pipe — an indulgence I never omitted
the last thing at night — when this sudden impression came
over me. My wife observed that something was the matter,
and questioned me on the subject. However, as I knew
she would only laugh at me, I did not tell her the cause.

74 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

" In the middle of the forenoon, whilst I was listening to
my daughter Rose, who was my favourite, she suddenly
looked up and said, in a hurried tone, ' Father, there are
several men coming to the house.' It instantly occurred to
me that something had happened during the past night,
and that my forebodings would not prove vain. However,
as my whole family knew that I had not stirred out during the
night, I had little fear ; and this circumstance even led me
to suppose that it might be some mistake.

" By this time the party had arrived at the door of the
cottage, and one of them gave me to understand that he had
a justice's search-warrant, and that I was their prisoner.
I submitted at once to be taken into custody, and I was
immediately secured. Some of the party then began to
rummage every drawer and corner of the house, amidst the
very voluble abuse of my wife. They, however, found
nothing they came to search for, which, as I soon learned,
was some wheat stolen during the last night from a neigh-
bouring farmer.

" On this information I felt considerable relief, conscious
of my innocence ; but my wife became perfectly outrageous
when the constable refused to take her word that I had
never stirred over my threshold since six o'clock of the
preceding evening. She, poor woman, swore she would
take the law of them ; threatened writs, indictments, jus-
tices, and I know not what; and I verily believed she
would have inflicted summary vengeance on the head of
the constable with the poker, so furious had she become,
from a consciousness that the accusation was without
foundation.

" However, in spite of all her threats and rage, I was
speedily conveyed before the justice who granted the

Snow den Dtinhill, the Convict. 75

warrant, and on the oath of a person, who swore that he
was going along a road near my house and towards the
farm-house in question, about two o'clock in the morning,
that he saw a horse and two men returning from it, and that
he was quite sure I was one of them, my commitment was
made out for the House of Correction at Beverley.

" All this took so short a time that I scarcely attempted
to defend myself ; and indeed I scarcely even know now
how I could effectually have done so. For I could only
bring the members of my own family to prove that I had
not been out of my cottage, and of course they would
not have been believed against the positive evidence of the
witness who swore to my person, though he was, according
to his own statement, fifty yards distant from me — in addi-
tion to this, at two o'clock in the morning."

The prosecutor of Snowden Dunhill was Mr. Barnard
Clarkson, of Holme, at that time a partner in the Howden
Bank.

The consciousness that her husband was ignorant of the
robbery imputed to him caused Sally Dunhill to regard him
as a martyr. Her Ranting enthusiasm was excited, and she
wrote a long letter to the prosecutor, denouncing him, in
Biblical terms, as one who " compassed about " the righteous
man " with words of hatred, and fought against him without
a cause " ; and announced to him that she had given
herself up to prayer against him (Clarkson), and invoked
the malediction of heaven upon his head — " Let his pos-
terity be cut off ; and in the generations following let their
name be blotted out." And she concluded this strange
epistle with the words of the Psalmist : " Let them curse,
but bless thou : when they arise, let them be ashamed ; but
let thy servant rejoice. Let mine enemies be clothed with

76 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

shame, and let them cover themselves with their own con-
fusion as with a mantle. I will greatly praise the Lord with
my mouth ; yea I will praise him among the multitude, for
he shall stand at the right hand of the poor, to save hirn
from those that condemn his soul."

Snowden Dunhill continues in his Autobiography : —

" I now, for the first time, became an inmate of a prison,
an event I had always held in the greatest horror. As it
was well known that I had plenty of money, I had very
soon the proffered and apparently disinterested assistance
of an attorney. My situation was maturely considered,
and it was soon determined that a writ of habeas corpus
should be put in, for the purpose of taking my trial at the
approaching Assizes at York, in preference to Beverley.

" I was in consequence taken up to London in custody,
after the writ was obtained, and my trial was appointed to
take place at York, principally on this ground, as urged by
counsel, that my character was so notorious in the East
Riding of Yorkshire that no unprejudiced jury could there
be impannelled. The reader may be sure that all this was
done at no slight expense ; but perhaps he will not believe
me when I assure him that by the time my counsel had
received his fee for the approaching defence I had scarcely
a shilling left in the world.

" The March Assizes of 1813 at length arrived, when I
gave myself up to the gaoler of the Castle, and I was soon
placed in the dock. My eyes were cast on the ground,
and I for a time felt stupified. However, I at last raised
them to the objects before me, and the first that caught
them was the judge himself, then the counsel, and then the
immense crowd of spectators who had assembled to hear
my trial. I soon was calm enough to discover in the

Snowden Dunhill, the Convict.

gallery the faces of many persons I knew, and I endea-
voured to put on a forced courage by nodding familiarly at
them, and by appearing to be utterly careless of what was
going forward.

" The indictment was read over to me, and I was called
upon to hold up my hand and plead guilty or not guilty ;
though I uttered the latter with a loud voice, it was with a
full conviction that my doom was sealed. I felt — and I
suppose all persons similarly circumstanced feel the same —
that not only the assembled people, but that the whole
world had combined to destroy me.

" The facts above narrated were stated shortly to the
jury. The witness swore to my person, and accounted for
his being there at that hour, naturally enough, by stating
that he had been to visit his sweetheart. The farmer swore
to having missed the corn on the night in question.
Though my counsel tried to confound the first witness
by fierce looks and bullying questions, and by dwelling
upon the impossibility of his being able to swear to a
person at the distance of fifty yards and at two in the
morning, yet he stuck to his oath immovably. I was
asked what I wished to say, and all that I could state was
that I was innocent ; that I was in bed at the time, and
that all the family knew this to be the fact. My wife was
anxious to speak for me, but my counsel insisted upon her
holding her tongue, which she at last consented to do on
his assuring her that she would do my case more harm than
good. The jury without the slightest hesitation found me
guilty, and the judge at once sentenced me to seven years'
transportation.

" I was immediately conveyed back to my cell, and a few-
days afterwards I was forwarded to the hulks. In this

yS Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

miserable banishment I passed six years, embittered by the
most dreadful account of my family, every member of it,
even in the remotest degree, having transgressed the laws
of his country, and was then undergoing for his offences the
punishment awarded to him. Could hope under any form
have presented herself to me, I felt that I might yet be a
reclaimed man, but I could not catch the most distant
glimpse of her. My years passed on in the midst of misery
the most distressing, till they at last came to an end. I
obtained my discharge or pardon a short time before the
expiration of my full term, for I had been guilty of no
violence, or insolence, or excess, since my arrival.

" I left this abode of vice and misery without a friend on
the face of the earth, and unconscious where to find even a
momentary place of refuge. There are many unfortunate
individuals who, had they a house or employment to fly to
after having undergone their periods of punishment, would
be glad to betake themselves to habits of honesty and in-
dustry. But, unluckily for them, they are turned out with-
out a refuge to resort to, and necessity, and not inclination,
drives them to the commission of fresh crimes.

" As to myself, I returned to Spaldington, but the change
which my worldly prospects and circumstances had under-
gone was in the extreme overwhelming. Some of these
misfortunes I well knew, but to others I was an entire
stranger, and I cannot at this day lay blame to anyone but
myself for them. My evil example pointed out the way of
lawless depredation to my children, in characters so legible
that they could not fail to read and study them.

" The farmers of the village had thought it right to clear
my cottage of every one connected with me in name, re-
lationship, or blood.

Snowden Dunhill, the Convict. 79

"I felt at a great loss where to fix, or to what object to
turn myself for a livelihood and bare subsistence. As to
my children and connections, they were scattered in every
direction, and for the most part undergoing the punishment
due to their crimes.

" My daughter, my favourite daughter, Rose, had been
committed, and sentenced to confinement in York Castle.
During her imprisonment she was delivered of a bastard-
child ; what its fate may be, heaven alone can tell ! She
was visited in the Castle by a gentleman from Howden, for
the purpose of proffering her some assistance in her neces-
sitous situation. This I have understood she indignantly
refused. Holding up her new-born babe to his gaze, she
said, ' See ! he has hands to help himself, and if ever there
was a true-born rogue, here he is ! ' Thus, like Hannibal
towards Rome, was this poor child devoted from its earliest
infancy to war against all the settled institutions of society.

11 After her release from York the reader will readily
imagine from this anecdote of her, that she would speedily
fall into another scrape. This soon happened. She was
committed to Wakefield House of Correction, again tried
and found guilty, and I have never since heard of her.
She had cohabited with two different men, both of whom
passed as her husband. Their names were M'Dowel and
Conner, and they both have been transported.

" My daughter, Sarah Dunhill, after having been confined
in York Castle, was tried at the East Riding Sessions at
Beverley, and imprisoned one year. She was subsequently
tried at the Borough Sessions at Beverley for picking the
pocket of a gentleman named Scholfield, and stealing from
him a considerable sum of money.

N During her trial she made a moving appeal to the

80 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

barristers present, stating that she had always found them
her best friends ; that their ingenuity had often assisted her
in the hour of need, and she yet reposed faith in their
kindness, and proudly left her honesty and honour in their
keeping. The Recorder, startled into momentary confusion
at the nature of this appeal, speedily recovered his dignity,
and inflicted on her the doom of the law. She was at this
time residing at Hull, and had come over to Beverley fair
that morning for the purpose of depredation. For this
offence she was transported for seven years. She had three
husbands, named James Stanhope, William Rhodes, and
James Crossland, all of whom were severally transported,
one after the other.

' ' My son, William Dunhill, was transported at the York
Assizes for the term of fourteen years. He, poor fellow,
died immediately on his arrival in New South Wales. He
was the most promising of my family, and with different
examples before him, and good advice, would probably
have proved an ornament to society.

" Robert Taylor, son of my wife by a former husband,
and who lived under the same roof with us for several
years, was also transported.

" I think I omitted to state that my wife at the time I
married her was a widow, and her name was Taylor. Her
husband was shot in attempting to commit a robbery
shortly before I married her, a circumstance which was not
known to me, and which she never mentioned.

lt As to my wife, she was also transported, after having
contrived innumerable depredations, and been the cause of
those fatal events which befel herself, myself, and the rest
of the family.

" A robbery committed at Howden was readily traced

Snowden Dunhill, the Convict. 8 1

home to the inmates of our house ; suspicion fell at once
upon them, and the furniture, watches, coins, and many
other stolen articles were found on my premises. But as
this and many other things happened during my absence,
and as I never again saw several members of my family, I
am the less particular in narrating them, from my great
anxiety that nothing should appear in this history of myself
for which I cannot vouch the truth."

Snowden returned to Spaldington, found his family dis-
persed, his cottage occupied by other tenants, and no one
in the village disposed to receive him with open arms.
The farmers naturally viewed his return with alarm, and he
found none in the neighbourhood disposed to give him
work, had he cared to take it. But steady work was dis-
tasteful to him. Had he sought it in other parts of York-
shire he might readily have found it. Instead of this he
loafed about, sulky and angry with society. By degrees he
formed new connections, in Hull and Lincolnshire, and
resumed his former dishonest practices in concert with
them.

" I had heard much of the easy lives led by the convicts
in New South Wales ; and, moreover, some members of my
family were already there, and I felt impelled to make an
endeavour to join them.

" I had not long to wait for the gratification of this wish,
for I was soon traced to the commission of a paltry crime.
I was apprehended, tried, and convicted ; my character did
the rest, and readily procured for me that banishment from
England on which I had set my heart. My trial took place
at a district Quarter Sessions in the north of Lincolnshire,
in the gaol of which I was only detained a few days when,
with several others, I was transmitted, pinioned ami loaded

S 2 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

with irons, to London, there to await a ship to convey me
to Botany Bay.

" It was a cold, bleak morning when I was put upon the
coach in the court-yard of the prison, before daylight, with
the rain and sleet falling in abundance. The coach remained
half-an-hour or more in the yard of the prison till all was in
readiness, when the gates were thrown open and we com-
menced our inauspicious journey. I cannot at all describe
the feelings of loneliness and of heartrending distress which
came over me at this moment, in which I felt that I was-
rushing from certain misery to something that might be
even still worse, and yet in my despair I felt a clinging to
existence. I have never met with — nay, I have never heard
of — a bad man who could look death unflinchingly in the
face. On ascending the first rise of the ground in our
journey towards London a breeze from the north suddenly
sprung up, which scattered the loaded clouds, and the sun
burst forth in all its glory. There appeared before me, as
if a veil had been taken off the earth by magic power, a
wide-spread picture. The Humber, glorying in its Scythian
name, rolling to the ocean its mass of waters ; and in the
distance the winding Trent and Ouse, stealing onward like
two wily serpents ; and I could just discover the broad
expanse where they became united.

11 The beautiful Lincolnshire hills on my left, and the still
more beautiful hills, dales, and woods of my own native
Yorkshire to the north, lent their charms to form a land-
scape I never saw equalled, and in casting my last lingering,
gaze upon it I felt that the inanimate beauties of creation
must now to me for ever be a blank. I strained my eyes
to catch as much of it as I could, feeling the prospect,
as it were, a part of myself, and necessary to my very

Snow den Dunhill^ the Convict. 8

j

existence, for there it had commenced, and little at one
time did I think at how a great a distance I was doomed
to end it.

" Arrived at Botany Bay, I was soon disposed of, and com-
menced in good earnest the life of a slave. Hard-worked,
half-starved, ill-fed, and worse clothed, such is the fate of
the hapless convict."

Whilst in confinement, Snowden Dunhill wrote his Auto-
biography, and much wished to send it to his native village
that it might be printed there for circulation. But it was
some time before an opportunity presented itself.

One October day, 1830, as he was wheeling earth and
stones near the pier of Sydney, in the harbour of Port
Jackson, he rested for a moment to look at the beautiful
bay before him, and compare it with one of the lake-like
reaches of the Humber, when he was roused from his
musings by a tap on the shoulder, and the salutation of
" Well, Snowden, how are you ? "

He touched his cap, and looked up. Before him stood
a sailor, who grasped his hand and shook it warmly.
The sailor was the little boy whose life he had saved
in the moat of Spaldington Old Hall so many years
before.

The sailor gave him some money, and told him he
was about to return to Hull. Dunhill at once produced
his little Autobiography, and entreated him to take it
back to Yorkshire, and get it printed there. The sailor
readily promised to do this, and to his fulfilment of the
promise we owe the existence of the curious little memoir
presented to the reader.

In August, 1833, Snowden Dunhill was seen by another
Howden man, who was at Hobart Town, Van Dieman's

84 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

Land. His account of Dunhill is that he was " a tall,
stout man, bent and stooping with suffering and priva-
tion more than from natural infirmity, but with the step
and assurance of his old self."

The Howden man would not have known Dunhill had
not the convict heard his name mentioned, and intro-
duced himself to him : " Ye're one of 's sons i' How-
den ? " in the broadest East Riding Yorkshire. Then,
when the stranger answered that he was, Dunhill's eyes
filled with tears, and he began to sob.

" In external appearance he was not very much altered.
The boisterous and overbearing manners of former years
yet remained, unsoftened and unrepressed by the sufferings
he had undergone. An habitual stoop had bent down his
person, and somewhat taken away from the portly and
blustering gait of early life. The small, grey, quick, and
piercing eye still retained its cunning and prying character.
His dress was much the same as he wore in England."

Dunhill had received his ticket of freedom at Sydney
two or three years before this, and had then removed
to Van Dieman's Land, where his wife and daughter were
settled.

There is a strange irony in facts. Sally Dunhill, who
had been unable to rear one of her own children in
morality and honesty, so impressed on the people of
Hobart Town that she was a saintly woman by her
vociferous prayers and familiarity with Holy Scripture,
that she was employed in teaching a day-school, and
entrusted with the education of children in those paths
she had never trodden herself. The residue of her time
was spent in making penny pies, which Snowden hawked
about the town.

Snow den Dunhill, the Convict.

Snowden Dunhill gradually sank into habitual drunken-
ness, and was suspected of reverting to his old tricks of
petty larceny. When he died is not known.

86

Yo7'Jcshi?-e Oddities mid Incidents.

JAMES NAYLOR,

THE QUAKER.*

JAMES NAYLOR was born at East Ardsley,
near Wakefield, in 1616. He was the son of
a small farmer, whose house was near the old
church. He received a passable education
in reading, writing, and arithmetic. In 1628, when he was
aged twenty-two, he married, and settled in Wakefield
parish. He was a diligent reader of the Scriptures, and
zealous as an Independent. He spent about three years at
Wakefield, and then joined the Parliamentary army as a
private in 1641. He rose to become quartermaster of his
regiment under Major-General Lambert, but in 1649, on
account of ill-health, he was obliged to leave the army
and return to Wakefield. The pulpits of the Established
Church were now in the hands of Independent ministers,

* Authorities : — " The Grand Imposter Examined; or, the Life, Trial,
and Examination of James Naylor, London, 1656," reprinted in the
Harleian Misc., vi., 424. Johannis Lussenii " Hist. u. Schrifftmassige
Erorterung der vor wenig Zeit in Engelland entstandenen secte der
Quacker," in " Quicker Grueuel," published by authority of the
magistrates of Hamburg, 1702. " The Recantation of James Naylor,"
in " Somers' Tracts," vi., 22, pub. 1659. " Naylor's Writings Col-
lected," 8vo, 1716. Sewell's " Hist, of the Quakers," 1714. Sewell
was personally acquainted with Hannah Stranger, one of Naylor's
followers. "The Journals of the House of Commons," vi., p. 443 —
59. Blome's " Fanatick History." J. Whiting's "Account."

James Nay lor, the Quaker. &j

and that of Horbury, near Wakefield, was occupied by the
"godly and painful Master Marshall," under whom James
Naylor sat and groaned with unction.

But Naylor relaxed his religious exercises on visits to a
Mrs. Roper at Horbury, a lady whose husband had been
for some time absent. When this lady became a mother
by James Naylor, the Rev. Mr. Marshall thought it neces-
sary to expose him, and Naylor, indignant with his Inde-
pendent minister, joined the sect of the Quakers, then
founded by George Fox. In 1652 he went on a religious
visitation to the West, and in 1655 he visited London, in
which city a meeting of Quakers had been established by
the ministry of Edward Burrough and Francis Howgill,
two men of Westmoreland.

Naylor prophesied in the meeting with so great applause
that several women began to exalt him above Burrough
and Howgill, and disturbed the latter when they attempted
to speak. The two ministers reproved the women, and they
in dudgeon complained to Naylor, and he encouraged them
in their opposition to Burrough and Howgill. Two of
these women, Martha Symonds and Hannah Strangers,
became his most devoted adherents, and followed him in
all his wanderings.

In 1656 he revisited the West, prophesied in Cornwall,
and on passing through Exeter was arrested under the
sweeping charge of vagrancy, and committed to gaol.
There he was visited by many devout females, amongst
others by one Dorcas Erbury, who fell into a swoon, and
was revived by Naylor. who cried over her, " Tabitha, I say
unto thee, arise ! " She awoke, and the faithful believed
that Naylor had restored her from death to life.

He was released at length by order of Council and

88 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

then he travelled to Bristol at the head of six believers.
On reaching Bedminster, a village a mile from Old Bristol,
though now a suburb of the town, Naylor and his party-
formed in procession, intending to produce a scene in the
streets of Bristol.

One of his disciples, a young man with bare head, led
the horse by the bridle upon which Naylor was mounted ;
two men followed in single file on horseback, each with his
wife on a pillion behind him ; and one woman walked on
the causeway. As they went forward the six shouted,
"Holy, holy, holy, Lord God of Sabaoth ! " till they
came to the almshouse in the suburbs of Bristol, " when
one of the women alighted, and she, with the other of her
own sex, lovingly marched on each side of Naylor's horse.'*
The road was deep in mud and rain was falling, but
neither mud nor rain damped the ardour of the enthusiasts.
On reaching Redcliffe Gate, Timothy Wedlock, a Devon-
shire man of the company, bareheaded, and Martha
Symonds holding the bridle on one side and Hannah
Stranger holding it on the other, advanced, chanting their
hymn of praise.

Naylor wore a broad-brimmed hat and a long sad-coloured
mantle. He was of a moderate height, ruddy complexion,
had a slightly arched nose, large brown eyes, was a re-
markably handsome man, and was thought by many to
resemble the traditional type of face attributed to our Lord.
Martha Symonds was the wife of Thomas Symonds, book-
binder of London ; and Hannah Stranger was the wife of
John Stranger, combmaker in London. The two other
women accompanying Naylor were Dorcas Erbury, whom
he had raised from the dead, and her mother.

In this way the solemn procession advanced to the High

James Naylor, the Quaker. 89

Cross at Bristol, and after that to the White Hart, Broad
Street, where lodged two Quakers, Dennis Hollister and
Henry Row.

The magistrates at once apprehended the party, and com-
mitted them to prison.

The following is the examination of the prisoners, some-
what condensed : —

Examination of James Naylor.

Being asked his name, he replied, " The men of this
world call me James Naylor."

Q. "Art not thou the man that rid on horseback into
Bristol, a woman leading thy horse, and others saying
before thee, ' Holy, holy, holy, Hosannah to the Son of
David ' ? "

A. " I did ride into a town, but what its name was I
know not ; and by the Spirit a woman was commanded
to hold my horse's bridle, and some there were that cast
down clothes and sang praises to the Lord, such songs as
the Lord put into their hearts ; and it is like it might
be the song, ' Holy, holy, holy,' &c."

Q. " Whether or no didst thou reprove these women ? "

A, "Nay; but I bade them take heed that they say
nothing but what they were moved to by the Lord."

Q. " Dost thou own this letter which Hannah Stranger
sent unto thee ? *

A. ■■ Yes, I do own that letter."

Q. " Art thou (according to that letter) the fairest of
ten thousand ? "

A. M As to the visible, I deny any such attribute to be
due unto me ; but if as to that which the Father hath
begotten in me, I shall own it.''

90 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

Two letters were then produced and read ; we need only
give one : —

" James Naylor,

" Oh ! thou fairest of ten thousand, thou only be-
gotten Son of God, how my heart panteth after thee ! O
stay me with flaggons and comfort me with wine. My
beloved, thou art like a roe or young hart upon the moun-
tains of spices, where thy beloved spouse hath long been
calling thee to come away, but hath been but lately heard of
thee. Now it lies something upon me that thou mindest to
see her, for the Spirit and power of God is with her, and there
is given to her much of excellent and innocent wisdom
arisen and arising in her, which will make all the honest-
hearted to praise the Lord alone, and no more set up self.
And therefore let not my lord and master have any
jealousy against her, for she is highly beloved of the
Lord, and that shall all see who come to know the Lord.
And now He doth bless them that bless His, and curse
them that curse His ; for this hath the Lord showed me,
that her portion is exceedingly large in the Lord, and as
her sorrow hath been much, so shall her joy be much
more ; which rejoiceth my heart to see her walk so
valiantly and so faithfully in the work of the Lord, in this
time of so great trials as hath been upon her especially.
" And I am,

" Hannah Stranger.

" The Postscript.

" Remember my dear love to thy Master. Thy name is
no more James, but Jesus. " John Stranger.

" Remember my love to these friends with thee. The

James Naylor, the Quaker. 91

17th day of 8th month, superscribed to the hands of James

Naylor."

Q. " Art thou the only Son of God ? "

A. "lam the Son of God ; but I have many brethren."

Q. " Have any called thee by the name of Jesus ? "

A. " Not as unto the visible, but as Jesus, the Christ
that is in me?"

Q. " Dost thou own the name of the King of Israel ? "

A. " Not as a creature; but if they gave it to Christ
within, I own it, and have a kingdom, but not of this world ;
my kingdom is of another world, of which thou wotest
not."

Q. "Whether or no art thou the prophet of the Most
High?"

A. " Thou hast said I am a prophet? "

Q. " By whom were you sent ? "

A. " By Him who hath sent the Spirit of His Son in me
to try, not as to carnal matters, but belonging to the king-
dom of God, by the indwelling of the Father and the Son,
to judge all spirits, to bo guided by none."

Q. " Is not the written Word of God the guide ? "

A. " The written Word declares of it, and what is not
according to that is not true."

Q. "Who is thy mother? or whether or no is she a
virgin ?"

A. " Nay, according to the natural birth."

Q. "Who is thy mother according to thy spiritual
birth?"

A. " No carnal creature."

Q. "Who, then?"

He returned no answer.

9 2 Yorkshire Oddities a,7id Incidents.

Q. " Art thou the everlasting Son of God ? "

A. " When God is manifest in the flesh there is the
everlasting Son ; and I do witness God in the flesh. I am
the Son of God, and the Son of God is but one."

Q. " Art thou the everlasting Son of God, the King of
Righteousness?"

A. " I am ; and the everlasting righteousness is wrought
in me ; if ye were acquainted with the Father ye would
also be acquainted with me."

Q. " Do any kiss thy feet ? *

A. " It might be they did, but I minded them not."

Q. " How dost thou provide for a livelihood ? "

A. " As do the lilies, without care, being maintained of
my Father."

Q. " What business hast thou at Bristol, or that way ? "

A. " I was guided and directed by my Father."

Q. " Where were you born ? "

A. " At Arderslow, in Yorkshire."

Q. "Where lives thy wife?"

A. " She whom thou callest my wife lives in Wakefield."

Q. " Why dost thou not live with her ? "

A. " I did till I was called to the army."

Q. " Under whose command didst thou serve in the
army ? "

A. " First under him they call Lord Fairfax."

Q. "Who then?"

A. " Afterwards with that man called Colonel Lambert.
And then I went into Scotland, where I was quartermaster ;
and returned sick to my earthly habitation."

Q. " What wentest thou for to Exeter ? "

A. " I went to Launceston to see the Brethren."

Q. " What estate hast thou ? "

yames Nay lor, the Quaker. 93

A. " I take no care for that."

Q. " Wherefore earnest thou in such an unusual posture
as two women leading thy horse ; others saying, ' Holy,
holy, holy ! ' &c, with another before thee bareheaded,
knee-deep in the highway mud, when thou mightest have
gone on the causey ; and at such a time that, it raining, thy
companions received the rain at their necks, and vented it
at their hose and breeches?"

A. "It tended to my Father's praise and glory; and I
ought not to slight anything which the Spirit of the Lord
moves."

Q. " Wherefore didst thou call Marthy Symonds
* Mother,' as George Fox affirms ? "

A. " George Fox is a liar and a firebrand of hell ; for
neither I, nor any with me, called her so."

Q. " Thou hast a wife at this time ? "

A. " A woman I have, who by the world is called my
wife, and some children I have, which according to the
flesh are mine."

Martha Symonds' Examination.

" She contendeth she knew James Naylor formerly, for
he is now no more James Naylor, but refined to a more
excellent substance ; and so she saith she came with him
from Eccles to Bristol."

Q. " What made thee lead his horse into Bristol, and
cry, ' Holy, holy, holy ! ' and to spread thy garment before
him ? "

A. " I was forced thereto by the power of the Lord."
Q. "Whether didst thou kneel before him ? "
A. " I was forced thereto by the power of love."
Q. " Dost thou own him to be the Trince of Peace ? "

94 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

A. " He is a perfect man ; and he that is a perfect man
is the Prince of Peace."

Q. * Hast thou a husband ? "

A. " I have a man which thou callest my husband."

Q. " What made thee leave him, and to follow James
Naylor?"

A. " It is our life to praise the Lord, and the Lord my
strength is manifest in James Naylor."

Q. " Oughtest thou to worship James Naylor upon thy
knees?"

A. " Yea, I ought so to do."

Hannah Stranger, Thomas Stranger, and Timothy Wed-
lock were next examined. It is not necessary to reproduce
their interrogations ; it much resembles what has been
given above.

Dorcas Erbury was next called. She was widow of
William Erbury, once a minister.

Q. " Where dost thou live ? "

A. "With Margaret Thomas."

Q. " Wherefore dost thou sing, ' Holy, holy, holy ' ? "

A. "I did not at that time; but those that sang did it
discharging of their duty."

Q. tl Dost thou own him to be the Holy One of Israel ? "

A. " I do, and with my blood will seal it."

Q. " And dost thou own him for the Son of God ? "

A. " He is the only begotten son of God."

Q. " Wherefore didst thou pull off his stockings, and lay
thy clothes beneath his feet ? "

A. "He is worthy of it, for he is the Holy One of
Israel."

Q. " Christ raised those that had been dead ; so did not
he?"

y antes Nay lor, the Convict. 95

A. " He raised me."

Q. " In what manner ? "

A. " He laid his hand on my head after I had been dead
two days, and said, • Dorcas, arise ! ' and I arose, and live,,
as thou seest."

Q. "Where did he this?"

A. "At the gaol in Exeter."

Q. " What witness hast thou for this ? M

A. " My mother, who was present."

Q. " His power being so much, wherefore opened he not
the prison doors and escaped ? "

A. " The doors shall open when the Lord's wish is.
done."

The Bristol magistrates sent Naylor and his deluded fol-
lowers to London, to be examined before Parliament.

On the 31st October it was ordered that a Committee
should be appointed to consider the information given
touching "the misdemeanour and blasphemies of James
Naylor and others at Bristol and elsewhere, and to report
thereon."

The Committee met next day, and on December 2nd it
was resolved that the report of the Committee should
be brought in and read on the iollowing Friday,
December 5th. On that day it was read — it consisted
of thirteen sheets of paper — by the reporter, and the
debate on the report began on the 6th, when James
Naylor was called to the bar of the House. He came
with his hat on, but it was removed by the Serjeant.
The report was read to him, and he was demanded
whether each particular was true, and he acknowledged
that it was so.

The debate was adjourned to Monday, the Sth, and it

g6 Yorkshire Oddities and Incide7its.

occupied Parliament till the 20th December. The House
resolved " that James Naylor was guilty of horrid blas-
phemy, and that he was a grand impostor and seducer of
the people," and his sentence was, "that he should be set
on the pillory, with his head in the pillory, in the Palace
Yard, Westminster, during the space of two hours, on
Thursday next, and be whipped by the hangman through
the streets from Westminster to the Old Exchange, Lon-
don ; and there, likewise, he should be set on the pillory,
with his head in the pillory, for the space of two hours,
between the hours of eleven and one, on Saturday next, in
■each place wearing a paper containing an inscription of his
crimes ; and that at the Old Exchange his tongue should
be bored through with a hot iron, and that he should be
there also stigmatised in the forehead with the letter B ;
and that he should afterwards be sent to Bristol, to be con-
veyed into and through the city on horseback, with his face
backwards, and there also should be whipped the next
market-day after he came thither ; and that thence he
should be committed to prison in Bridewell, London, and
there be restrained from the society of all people, and there
to labour hard till he should be released by Parliament ;
and during that time he should be debarred the use of
pen, ink, and paper, and should have no relief but what he
earned by his daily labour."

The women were ordered to be kept in confinement.
The severity of this atrocious sentence deserves notice.
The Independents, who had suffered under Laud and the
Star Chamber, now that they were in power, had no idea
of tolerating the Quakers, who read their Bibles differently
from themselves. Cromwell was especially prejudiced
against them, and it is probable that the Protector had

yames Nay lor, the Quaker. 97

something to do with the severity of the sentence on
Naylor.

One Robert Rich, a merchant of London, wrote to the
Parliament, on December 15, a petition in favour of Nay-
lor: " If I may have liberty of those that sit in Parliament,
I do here attend at this door, and am now ready out of
the Scriptures of truth to show that not anything that
James Naylor hath said or done is blasphemy, &c."

Sentence was pronounced by the Speaker, Sir Thomas
Widdrington. Naylor on hearing it said, " I pray God
He may not lay it to your charge." On December 20th,
1656, Naylor suffered a part of his sentence, standing two
hours in the pillory, and receiving at the cart's tail three
hundred and ten stripes. "The executioner gave him
three hundred and ten stripes," says Sewell, " and would
have given him one more, as he confessed to the Sheriff,
but his foot slipping, the stroke fell upon his own hand,
which hurt him much. Naylor was hurt with the horses
treading on his feet, whereon the prints of the nails were
seen. His wounds were washed by R. Travers, who certi-
fied, ' there was not the space of a man's nail free from
stripes and blood, from his shoulders near to his waist ; his
right arm sorely striped ; his hands much hurt by the
cords that they bled and were swelled : the blood and
wounds of his back did very little appear at first sight, by
reason of abundance of dirt that covered them, till it was
washed off.' "

Another petition in his favour was presented, signed by
about a hundred persons, to Parliament, requesting the re-
mission of the rest of his sentence, and as this was refused,
appeal was made to Cromwell the Protector, with like want
of success.

H

98 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

Five Independent ministers visited Naylor in prison, and
vainly urged him to recant.

Rich besieged the doors of Parliament on December
27th, from eight o'clock till eleven, imploring a respite,
but all in vain. Naylor was then brought out to undergo
the rest of his sentence ; he was again pilloried, his tongue
bored through, and his forehead branded. Rich held the
hand of the unhappy man whilst his tongue was pierced,
and the red-hot iron applied to his brow, and he licked the
wounds to allay the pain. Thousands who witnessed the
execution of the sentence exhibited their respect by
removing their caps. There was no reviling, and nothing
thrown at Naylor, but all stood silent and sympathetic.

James Naylor was then sent to Bristol, and whipped
from the middle of St. Thomas' Street to the middle of
Broad Street, and taken back to his prison in Bridewell.
There he wrote his recantation, in epistles addressed to the
Quakers. In one of these he says : " Dear brethren, my
heart is broken this day for the offence which I have
occasioned to God's truth and people, and especially to
you, who in dear love followed me, seeking me in faithful-
ness to God, which I rejected, being bound wherein I could
not come forth, till God's hand brought me, to whose love
I now confess. And I beseech you forgive wherein I
evil requited your love in that day. God knows my sorrow
for it, since I see it, that ever I should offend that of God
in any, or reject his counsel ; and I greatly fear further to
offend or do amiss, whereby the innocent truth or people
of God should suffer, or that I should disobey therein."

He was confined about two years, and was then set
at liberty. He thereupon went to Bristol, where in a
public meeting he made confession of his offence and fall

y antes Nay lor, the Qtcalccr. 99

so movingly as to draw tears from most of those present ;
and he was then restored to the community of the Quakers,
from which he had been excluded by George Fox at Exeter
for his presumption and pride.

Charges of the most gross immorality have been brought
against James Naylor, whether truly or falsely who can now
decide ? It is possible that the language of the women who
followed him, in speaking of him, their letters to him, one
of which has been quoted, may have given rise to these
reports. Naylor, however, never would admit that there
had been anything unseemly in his behaviour towards the
women who followed him from London into Cornwall, and
from Cornwall to Bristol ; and Sewell, who knew Hannah
Stranger, repudiates the charge as utterly false. But it is
curious to notice how that religious fanaticism and sen-
suality so frequently run together. It was so in that out-
burst of mysticism in the Middle Ages — the heresy of the
Fraticelli ; it was so with at least one branch of the Hussites
in Bohemia; and in the sixteenth and seventeenth cen-
turies, when the great convulsion of the Reformation had set
minds naturally predisposed to religious excitement in a
ferment, this was most conspicuous, as in the ferocious
licentiousness of John Bockleson, the Anabaptist King of
Sion, or the more cautious profligacy, under a cloak of
religion, of Ludwig Hetzer and David Joris.

James Naylor quitted London finally in 1660, intending
to return to Wakefield ; but was found by a countryman
one evening in a field near Holm and King's Rippon, in
Huntingdonshire, having been robbed and left bound. He
was taken to Holm, and his clothes were changed. To
those who kindly cared for him he said, " You have re-
freshed my body ; the Lord refresh your souls."

ioo Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

He shortly after died there of the rough handling he had
received from the highwaymen who had plundered him,
and was buried in a Quaker's cemetery belonging to Thomas
Pamel, a physician.

Two hours before he died he uttered the touching and
eloquent speech : — " There is a spirit which I feel that
delights to endure all things, in hope to enjoy its own in
the end. Its hope is to outlive all wrath and contention,
and to weary out all exultation and cruelty, or whatever is
of a nature contrary to itself. It sees to the end of all
temptations. As it bears no evil in itself, so it conceives
none in thoughts to any other. If it be betrayed, it bears
it ; for its ground and spring are the mercies and forgive-
ness of God. Its crown is meekness ; its life is everlasting
love, unfeigned, and takes its kingdom with entreaty and
not with contention, and keeps it by lowliness of mind.
In God alone it can rejoice, though none else regard it or
can own its life. It is conceived in sorrow, and brought
forth without any to pity it ; nor doth it murmur at grief
and oppression. It never rejoiceth but through sufferings ;
for with the world's joy it is murdered. I found it alone,
being forsaken ; I have fellowship therein with them who
lived in dens and desolate places in the earth ; who through
death obtained their resurrection, and eternal, holy life."

A more beautiful and true description of the Christian
spirit was never uttered. It is a passage meriting a place
beside the famous definition of charity by S. Paul. The man
who used such words was no hypocrite when he used them.
If he had erred greatly, he had also repented ; if he had
fallen, he had risen after his fall. One is glad to turn away
the eye from the blemishes of the unfortunate Quaker's
career to the spot of pure light that rests on his deathbed.

James Nay lor, the Quaker. 101

His writings were collected and published in an octavo
volume in 1 716. They are very unequal. Some passages
of great beauty, almost comparable to that given above,
may be found, but there is also much that is as involved in
style and confused in thought as the specimen quoted
earlier from his recantation.

tn

:02 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

OLD THREE LAPS."

j]T Laycock, two miles west of Keighley, at a
farm called " The Worlds," lived a close-fisted
yeoman named Sharp, at the end of last cen-
tury and the beginning of this. He carried on
a small weaving business in addition to his farm, and
amassed a considerable sum of money. The story goes that
on one occasion old Sharp brought a piece of cloth to the
Keighley tailor and told him to make a coat for him out of
it. The tailor on measuring the farmer pronounced the
cloth to be insufficient to allow of tails to the coat, and
asked what he was to do under the circumstances. " Tho'
mun make it three laps," — i.e., any way. The expression
stuck to him, and till the day of his death the name of
" Three Laps " adhered to him, when it passed to his still
more eccentric son.

This son, William Sharp, for awhile followed the trade of
a weaver, but was more inclined to range the moors with
his gun than stick to his loom; and the evenings generally
found him in the bar of the " Devonshire Inn " at Keighley,
the landlord of which was a Mr. Morgan. Young Three
Laps was fond of chaffing his boon companions. On
one occasion he encountered a commercial traveller in
the timber trade, and began his banter by asking him the
price of a pair of mahogany ulaithe " (barn) doors. The

" Old Three Laps." 103

traveller, prompted by Mr. Morgan, drew him out, and
Looked his order.

After some weeks the invoice of mahogany barn-doors,
price upwards of ,£30, was forwarded to William Sharp.
Young Three Laps was beside his wits with dismay, and
had recourse to Mr. Morgan, and through his intervention
the imaginary mahogany barn-doors were not sent.

The barmaid of the " Devonshire " was a comely
respectable young woman, the daughter of a neighbouring
farmer named Smith. William Sharp fell desperately in
love with the girl, proposed, and was accepted. The day
for the wedding was fixed, and the young man went to
Keighley Church at the appointed hour to be married. But
the bride was not there. At the last moment a difficulty
had arisen about the settlements. Mr. Smith could not
induce Old Three Laps to bestow on his son sufficient
money to support him in a married condition, and the
two old men had quarrelled and torn up the settlements.

The blow was more than the mind of William Sharp
could bear. He returned to The Worlds sulky, went
to bed, and never rose from it again. For forty-nine years
he kept to his bed, and refused to speak to anyone. He
was just thirty years old when he thus isolated himself
from society and active life, and he died in his bed at the
age of seventy-nine, on March 3rd, 1856.

The room he occupied measured nine feet long and was
about the same breadth. The floor was covered with stone
flags, and was generally damp. In one corner was a fire-
place which could be used only when the wind blew from
one or two points of the compass ; the window was perma-
nently fastened, and where some of the squares had been
broken, was carefully patched with wood. At the time of

104 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

his death, this window had not been opened for thirty-eight
years. The sole furniture comprised an antique clock,,
minus weight and pendulum, the hands and face covered
with a network of cobwebs ; a small round table of dark
oak, and a plain unvarnished four-post bedstead, entirely
without hangings. In this dreary cell, whose only inlet for
fresh air during thirty-eight years was the door occasionally
left open, did this strange being immure himself. He
obstinately refused to speak to anyone, and if spoken to
even by his attendants would not answer. All trace of in-
telligence gradually faded away; the only faculties which
remained in active exercise were those he shared with the
beasts.

His father by his will made provision for the temporal
wants of his eccentric son, and so secured him a constant
attendant. He ate his meals regularly when brought to
him, and latterly in a very singular manner, for in process
of time his legs became contracted and drawn towards
his body, and when about to eat his food he used to roll
himself over and take his meals in a kneeling posture. He
was generally cleanly in his habits. During the whole
period of his self-imposed confinement he never had any
serious illness, the only case of indisposition those connected
with him could remember being a slight loss of appetite,
caused apparently by indigestion, for two or three days —
and this, notwithstanding that he ate on an average as much
as any farm labourer. He certainly, physically speaking,
did credit to his food, for though arrived at the age of
seventy-nine years, his flesh was firm, fair, and unwrinkled,
save with fat, and he weighed about 240 lbs. He showed
great repugnance to being seen, and whenever a stranger
entered his den he immediately buried his head in the

" Old Three Laps." 105

bed-clothes. About a week before his death his appetite
began to fail ; his limbs became partially benumbed, so
that he could not roll himself over to take his food in his
accustomed posture.

From this attack he seemed to rally, and no apprehensions
were entertained that the attack would prove fatal, till the
evening before his death.

However, during the night he rapidly became worse, and
expired at four a.m. on Monday, March 3rd, 1S56.

Shortly before he expired he was heard to exclaim —
" Poor Bill ! poor Bill ! poor Bill Sharp ! " —the most
connected sentence he had been known to utter for forty-
nine years.

He was buried in Keighley Churchyard on the 7th of
March, amidst crowds who had come from all parts of the
neighbourhood to witness the scene. The coffin excited
considerable attention from its extraordinary shape, as his
body could not be straightened, the muscles of the knees-
and thighs being contracted. It was an oak chest, two feet
four inches in depth. The weight was so great that it
required eight men with strong ropes to lower it into the
grave. It was thought to weigh with its contents 4S0 lbs.

A gentleman who visited Old Three Laps before his
death has given the following account of what he saw : —

11 If you chance to go a-skating ' to th' Tarn,' and want
a fine bracing walk, keep on the Sutton road about a mile,
and you will come to an avenue of larch, not in a very
thriving state, but sufficient to indicate that some one had
an idea of the picturesque who planted the trees, although
the house at the top of the avenue has not a very
attractive appearance. You have now reached ' World's
End,' and save here and there a solitary farm, with its

106 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

cold stone buildings and treeless fields, there are few signs
of life between you and the wide and boundless moors
of Yorkshire and Lancashire. On the opposite hill, right
up in the clouds, is 'Tewett Hall,' the residence of a
Bradford Town Councillor. He alone, in this part, seems
to follow Three Laps' ancestors' plan of planting, and in a
few years we may expect to see a fine belt of timber on the
verge of the horizon, a sight that will cheer the heart of
some future Dr. Syntax when in search of the picturesque.
At this place Three Laps ' took his bed,' and in a little
parlour, with a northern light, the sill of which is level with
the field, the floor cold and damp, and meanly furnished,
it was my privilege to see Three Laps some twenty-five
years ago. To gain admission we had some difficulty ; but
with the assistance of the farmer, and a tin of tobacco to
the nurse, who was an inveterate smoker, we were shown
into his bedroom. As soon as he heard strangers, he
pulled the bed-clothes over his head, which the nurse
with considerable force removed, and uncovered his body,
which was devoid of every vestige of body-linen. A
more startling and sickening sight I never saw. Nebu-
chadnezzar rushed into my mind. Three Laps covered
his face with his hands, his fingers being like birds' claws,
while, with his legs drawn under his body, he had the
appearance of a huge beast. He had white hair, and a
very handsome head, well set on a strong chest. His body
and all about him was scrupulously clean, and his condition
healthy, as his nurse proudly pointed out, digging her fist
furiously into his ribs. He gave no signs of joy or pain,
but lay like a mass of inanimate matter. It struck me at
■the time that his limbs were stiff; but a neighbour of his,
■"-ho after his dinner stole a peep into his bedroom window,

" Old Three Laps." 107

told me that he found him playing with his plate in
the manner of a Chinese juggler, and with considerable
ability. On my informant tapping the window, he vanished
under the bed-clothes.

"Such was the life of the strange man who for love of
woman never left this obscure room for nearly half a
century."

The case of Old Three Laps is not unique.

In the early part of this century there lived in the neigh-
bourhood of Caen, in Normandy, a Juge de Paix, M. Hal-
loin, a great lover of tranquillity and ease ; so much so,
indeed, that, as bed is the article of furniture most adapted
to repose, he rarely quitted it, but made his bed-chamber a
hall of audience, in which he exercised his functions of
magistrate, pronouncing sentence with his head resting on
a pillow, and his body languidly extended on the softest of
feather beds. However, his services were dispensed with,
and he devoted the remaining six years of his life to still
greater ease. Feeling his end approach, M. Halloin deter-
mined on remaining constant to his principle, and showing
to the world to what an extent he carried his passion for
bed. Consequently, his last will contained a clause ex-
pressing his desire to be buried at night, in his bed, com-
fortably tucked in, with pillows and coverlets, as he had
died.

As no opposition was raised against the execution of this
clause, a huge pit was sunk, and the defunct was lowered
into his last resting-place without any alteration having
been made in the position in which death had overtaken
him. Boards were laid over the bed, that the falling earth
might not disturb this imperturbable quietist.

io8 Yorkshire Oddities <X7id Incidents.

CHRISTOPHER PIVETT.

HRISTOPHER PIVETT died at York, in
1796, at the advanced age of ninety-three
years. He was by trade a carver and gilder,
but in early life had served in the army, and
been present in several battles — Fontenoy, Dettingen, and
the siege of Carlisle.

After he settled at York, his house was accidentally burnt
down ; and he then formed the singular resolution never
again to sleep in a bed, lest he should be burned to death
whilst asleep, or not have sufficient time to remove his
property, should an accident again occur. This resolution
he strictly adhered to for the remaining forty years of his
life.

His practice was to repose upon the floor, or on two
chairs, or sitting in a chair, but always dressed.

During the whole period he dwelt alone he was his own
cook, and seldom suffered anyone to enter the house. He
would not tell anyone where he had been born or to whom
he was related, and there can be little doubt that the name
of Pivett was an assumed one. Among other singularities,
he kept a human skull in his house, and strictly ordered
that it should be buried with him.

David Turtoti) Musician at Horbury. 109

DAVID TURTON,

MUSICIAN AT HORBURY.

jAVID TURTON was born in Horbury, near
Wakefield, a.d. 176S, and died August iSth,
1S46.
He was by trade a weaver of flannel, and his
loom, which was in the upper room of the cottage in which
he lived, might be heard by passers-by going diligently from
early morn to dewy eve. In this way he supplied his few-
earthly wants, for he was a man of a very simple and unob-
trusive character ; and he did not change either his dress or
his habits with the growing luxury of the times.

In matter of diet he was frugal, and he always stuck to
the old oat-cake and oatmeal porridge he had been accus-
tomed to from childhood. " Avver bread and avver me-al
porritch " was what he called them, for he spoke the broadest
Yorkshire. Alas ! the delightful oat-cake, thin, crisp, is now
a thing of the past in Horbury. There was an old woman
made it, the last of a glorious race of avver bre-ad makers in
Horbury, ten years ago. But she has gone the way of all
flesh ; and the base descendants of the oat-cake crunchers,
the little men of to-day, sustain their miserable lives on
bakers' wheat bread.

David did not, as is the custom with Northerners now,

no Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

speak two languages — English and Yorkshire, according to
the company in which they find themselves ; but on all
occasions, and for all purposes, he adhered to that pecu-
liarly racy and piquant tongue, both in pronunciation and
phraseology, which was so well known to those who dwelt in
the West Riding of Yorkshire half a century ago, and
which still more or less prevails in that locality. Half a
century ago every village had its own peculiarity of intona-
tion, its own specialities in words. A Horbury man could
be distinguished from a man of Dewsbury, and a Thornhill
man from one of Batley. The railways have blended,
fused these peculiar dialects into one, and taken off the old
peculiar edge of provincialism, so that now it is only to be
found in its most pronounced and perfect development
among the aged.

The figure of David Turton was spare, his legs long and
lean as clothes-line props. He wore drab breeches and
white stockings, a long waistcoat of rather coarse black
cloth, with a long coat of the same material, much the
pattern of that now affected by our bishops.

His features were small and sharp, his eye especially
bright and full of life ; and having lost nearly all his teeth
at a comparatively early age, his pointed chin and nose
inclined much towards each other.

Music was his great delight, and in that he spent all his
spare time and money. He was a good singer, and could
handle the violoncello creditably. All Handel's oratorios,
besides many more of the works of the classical composers,
he knew off by heart, and he was for a long time the chief
musical oracle in the neighbourhood in which he lived.
He even aspired to be a composer, and published a volume
of chants and psalm tunes. Several of the former, but

David Turton, Musician at Horbury. 1 1 r

few of the latter, have survived. His chants have found
their way into various collections of Anglican chants. I
have heard them in King's College Chapel, and in more
than one cathedral. But they have ceased to sound in his
own parish church, where they have been displaced by
Gregorians. Not one of his hymn tunes has found its
way into the most popular collection of the day —
" Hymns Ancient and Modern " — which is the more to
be regretted, as Turton's tunes were often original, which
is much more than can be said for some of the new
tunes inserted in that collection.

A considerable number of choristers in cathedral and
parish church choirs owed all their musical skill to the
careful training of old David Turton.

His efficiency in music, together with the simple goodness
of his character, made him a favourite among musical
people in all grades of society, and there was seldom a
gathering in the neighbourhood where any good class of
music was performed in which his well-known figure was
not to be seen.

On one occasion he went to Hatfield Hall, then the resi-
dence of Francis Maude, Esq., who was a great lover of
music, and a friend and patron of old David.

His own account of his debut on that occasion is suffi-
ciently characteristic to be given : —

" I went t'other day," said he, " to a gre-at meusic do at
ou'd Mr. Maude's at 'Atfield 'All. Nah ! when I gat theare,
a smart-looking chap o' a waiter telled me I was to goa
into t' parlour ; soa I follows efter him doun a long passage
till we commed to a big oppen place like, and then he
oppens a doo-ar, and says to me, • Cum in ! ' soa I walks
in, and theare I seed t' place were right full o' quality

1 1 2 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

{gentlefolks), and Mr. Maude comes to me and says, ' Now,
David, haw are ye ? ' ' Middlin',' says I, ' thenk ye ! ' Soa
then there comes a smart chap wi' a tray full of cups o' tea,
and he says to me, ' Will ye hev sum ? ' ' Thenk ye,' says
I, ' I'm none particular.' ' Why, then, help yer sen,' says
he. Soa I taks a cup i' my hand; and then, says he,
' Weant ye hev sum sugar and cre-am.' ' Aye, for sure,'
says I ; soa I sugars and creams it, and then there cums
another chap wi' a tray full of bre-ad and butter, and cakes
like, and says he, ' Will ye hev sum?' 'I don't mind if I
do,' says I. ' Well, then,' says he, ' tak sum wi' thy fingers.'
Soa I holds t' cup and t' sawcer i' one hand, and taks a
piece of spice-cake i' t' other. ' Now, then,' thinks I, ' how
am I ever to sup my te-a ? I can't team (pour) it out into
t' saucer, for boath my hands is fast.' But all at once I sees
a. plan o' doin' it. I thowt I could hold t' cake i' my mouth
while I teamed (poured) t' te-a into t' sawcer, and then claps
th' cup on a chair while I supped my tea. But, bless ye,
t' cake war so varry short (crumbling) that it brake off i' my
mouth, and tunfled onto t' floor, and I were in a bonny
tak-ing. Howsomever, I clapt t' cup and t' sawcer onto t'
chair, and kneeled me down on t' floor, and sammed
(picked) it all up as weel as I could ; and then I sups up
my tea as sharp as I could, and gave t' cup and t' sawcer
to t' chap who cumed round again wi' his tray. ' Will ye
hev some more ? ' says he. ' Noa,' says I, ' noa more,
thenk ye.' For I thowt to mysen I had made maugrums
(antics) enough, and all t' quality 'at war theare mun ha'
thowt me a hawkard owd chap. Weel ! when tea were
finish'd we gat to th' music, and then, I promise ye, I war
all reet, an' a rare do we had on it."

David was returning through a pasture one day in which

David Turton} Musician at Horlury. 1 13

was a furious bull, who seeing old David with his red bag,
made at him. The musician did not fly ; that would not
comport with his dignity, and his bass viol that he carried
in the bag might be injured by a precipitate retreat over the
hedge. The bull bellowed, and came on with lowered
horns.

" Steady ! " soliloquised the musician ; " I reckon that
was double B nat'ral."

Again the bull bellowed.

"I am pretty sure it were B," said David again, "but
I'll mak' sure;" and opening his bag, he extracted the
bass viol, set it down, and drawing his bow across the
vibrating string, produced a sound as full of volume and of
the same pitch as the tone of the infuriated beast.

" I thowt I were reet," said David, with a grim smile.

At the sound of the bass viol the bull stood still, raised
his head, and glowered at the extraordinary object before
him. David, having his viol out, thought it a pity to bag
it again without a tune, and began the violoncello part in
one of Handel's choruses. It was too much for the bull ;
he was out-bellowed, and turned tail.

When David was getting a little advanced in years he
was coming home on a dark night from a musical gathering,
and tumbling over a large stone which happened to be
lying on the road, he fell down with great force and dislo-
cated his hip.

This was a sore trial to him in many ways. In the first
place, it quite prevented his going on with his customary
means of obtaining his living, and besides that, it deprived
him of the pleasure ot going about among his musical
friends.

For a long weary time he was quite confined to his bed-

1

H4 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

and time hung heavy on his hands, for he had no other re-
sources except his loom and his music. His constant
companion in bed was his violoncello, and as he could not
for a long time sit up sufficiently to enable him to use the
bow, he spent a great part of the day in playing over pizzi-
cato the music which he loved so well.

After some time he got about a little on crutches, and
ultimately was able to go by the help of a stick. His little
savings had now dwindled away, and poverty began to look
him in the face. But at this crisis his musical friends
came forward, and gave with great success for his benefit
the oratorio of the "Messiah," in the town of Wakefield, and
by this means raised for him the liberal sum of ^"70, of
which they begged his acceptance.

He was afraid to have so large a sum in his own charge,
and he therefore requested that it might be placed in the
hands of the Vicar of Horbury, so that he might draw from
time to time just as much as he needed. This was accord-
ingly done, and by his careful expenditure of it, it sufficed to
make him quite comfortable during the rest of his life, and
to erect the simple memorial-stone which now stands over
his grave in Horbury churchyard.

He had a married sister living in London who had often
invited him to pay her a visit, and when he had recovered
from his accident sufficiently to go about pretty well by the
aid of a stick, and having now plenty of time at his disposal,
on account of his being lame and unable to work at his
loom, he determined to embark on the railway to London.

His sister lived in Kensington, and his own account of
his visit, and of what he saw in the great city, was highly
amusing : —

" I went up," said he, " on a Setterday, and o' t' Sunday

David Turton, Musician at Horbury. 1 1 5

morn, while we was getting our breakfast, th' sister's hus-
band says to me across t' table, ' I reckon ye'll goa wi' us to
chapel this forenoin,' for ye see they was chapel-folks.
' We'll see,' says I, ' efter a bit.' But I knew varry weel
niysen what I were boun' to do, though I didn't say so to
them.

" Soa I just watches my opportunity, an' when they was
all gone out of the room, I nips out, as sharp as a lark, and
goas to t' end o' t' entry. For t' sister's house war not to
t' street, but up a bit on a entry like ; and away I goas till
I sees a homnibus, and I calls out to t' fellow, ' I say, are
ye for Sant Paul's ?' ' Aye,' says he.

" 'Why then,' says I, 'Ye're t' chap for me!' Soa he
oppens t' door, an' I jumps in.

"'How much is it,' says I. 'Nobbut sixpence,'
says he. Soa I rode all t' way thro' (from) Kensington
to Sant Paul's — and ye know it's a rare way — all for
sixpence.

" Eh ! and bless ye ! we just hed a sarvice ! Think
nobbut o' me goin to their ou'd chapel, wi' nowt but a bit
on a poor snufflin' hymn or two, an' some squealin' bairns
and women to sing 'em, and a ram'lin rantin' sarmon iver so
long, when I had t' opportunity o' going to Sant Paul's to
hear things done as they sud be done. Nay, nay ! — I
wam't sich a fooil as that nauthcr. I warn't born i' York-
shire to know no better nor that, I'll uphou'd ye.

" Howsomever, when I gat back hoame, they was into
me weel for giving 'em t' slip, an' turnin' my back, as they
said, on t' blessed Gospel invitin' of me. But I let 'em say
what they'd a mind to. When a beer barrel begins to fiz
out o' t' bung hoil, tha' mun let it fiz a bit, thof't mak a
mucky slop, or it'll bust t' barrel. I said nowt j I just set

Ii6 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

and thowt o' what I'd heard, and I played it ower again on
my in'ards.

" T' next day I thowt I sad like to goa and hear t' band
of t' Orse Guards. Now t? sister 'usband had a nephy 'at
was one on 'em ; soa I went wi' him. And after they'd
played iver so mony things — eh ! an' bless ye, they just
did play 'em — he says to t' leader o' t' band — ' Yon ow'd
chap ' — meanin' me — ' knows a bit about meusic.' Soa t'
fellow says to me, ' Is there owt partickler ye'd like ?'
' Nay,' says I, ' owt 'at ye've got'll be reight for me.'

" 'Nay,' says he, ' owt 'at ye've a mind to, ax for.' Soa I
picks two or three things 'at just comes to my mind like.
And, bless ye ! they played 'em like owt at all, and then I
menshuned another or two, an' they were niver fast wi'
owt till it was time for 'em to lap up. Soa they says, ' We
mun goa now, but ye mun come agean another day !' ' I
sail,' says I, ' ye may depend.' And I went reg'lar every
day as long as I war i' London ; and rare pleased they war
wi' me an' all, and so ye mind war I wi' them.

" That, and Sant Paul's, an' Westminster Habbey, war t'
main o' what I seed and heeard all t/ time I war i'
London."

Jo Jm Bartcndale, the Piper.

117

JOHN BARTENDALE,

THE PIPER.

N the reign of King Charles I. a strolling
musician, a poor piper, named John Bartendale,
was brought, in 1634, before the Assizes, and
was convicted of felony.

He received sentence, and on March 27 th was hung on
the gallows, outside Micklegate Bar, York. There were no
houses there at that time — it was open country. After he
had remained swinging for three-quarters of an hour, and
was to all appearance dead, he was cut down, and buried
near the place of execution. The officers of justice had
accomplished their work carelessly in both particulars, as it
afterwards transpired, for he had been neither properly
hung nor properly buried.

Earth has a peculiarly invigorating and restorative effect,
as has been recently discovered ; and patients suffering
from debility are by some medical men no\v-a-days placed
in earth baths with the most salutary effects. In the case
of gangrened wounds a little earth has been found effica-
cious in promoting healthy action of the skin. John
Bartendale was now to experience the advantages of an
earth-bath.

That same day, in the afternoon, a gentleman, one of
the Vavasours of Hazlewood, was riding by, when he

1 1 8 Yorks/iire Oddities and Incidents.

observed the earth moving in a certain place. He ordered
his servant to alight; he himself descended from his horse;
and together they threw off the mould, and discovered the
unfortunate piper alive. He opened his eyes, sat up, and
asked where he was, and how he came there. Mr. Vava-
sour and his servant helped him out of his grave, and
seated him on the side. The man was sent for water and
other restoratives, and before long the news had spread
about down Micklegate that the poor piper was come
to life again. A swarm of wondering and sympathising
people poured out to congratulate John the Piper on his
resurrection, and to offer their assistance. A conveyance
was obtained, and as soon as Bartendale was in a sufficient
condition to be moved, he was placed in it, covered with
Mr. Vavasour's cloak, — for he had been stripped by the
executioner before he was laid in the earth — and was
removed again to York Castle.

It was rather hard that the poor fellow, after he had
obtained his release, should have been returned to his
prison ; but there was no help for it. The resurrection of
the Piper was no secret ; otherwise Mr. Vavasour would
doubtless have removed him privately to a place of
security till he was recovered, and then have sent him into
another part of the country.

At the following Assizes, Bartendale was brought up
again. It was a nice point at law whether the man could
be sentenced to execution again after the Sheriff had
signed his affidavit that the man had been hung till he was
dead. Mr. Vavasour was naturally reluctant to supply the
one link in the chain of evidence which established the
identity of the prisoner with the Piper who had been hung
and buried for felony ; he made earnest intercession that

John Bartcnrfale, the Piper. 119

the poor fellow might be reprieved, popular sympathy was
on his side, the judge was disposed to mercy, and Barten-
dale was accorded a full and free pardon ; the judge
remarking that the case was one in which the Almighty
seemed to have interfered in mercy to frustrate the ends of
human justice, and that therefore he was not disposed
to reverse the decree of Providence according to the Piper
a prolongation of his days on earth.

Drunken Barnaby in his " Book of Travels " alludes to
Bartendale, when he stops at York.

" Here a piper apprehended,
Was found guilty and suspended ;
Being led to t' fatal gallows,
Boys did cry, ' Where is thy bellows?
Ever must thou cease thy tuning.'
Answered he, ' For all your cunning,
You may fail in your prediction.'
Which did happen without fiction ;
For cut down, and quick interred,
Earth rejected what was buried ;
Half alive or dead he rises,
Got a pardon next Assizes,
And in York continued blowing —
Yet a sense of goodness showing."

After his wonderful deliverance the poor fellow turned
hostler, and lived very honestly afterwards.

When asked to describe his sensations on being hung,
he said that when he was turned off, flashes of fire seemed
to dart before his eyes, and were succeeded by darkness
and a state of insensibility.

120 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

BLIND JACK OF KNARESBOROUGH*

LIND JACK METCALF is certainly one of
the most remarkable characters that Yorkshire
has produced. Afflicted with loss of sight, the
indomitable energy of his true north-country
character enabled him to carry on a successful business
where many a south countryman would have failed.

He was born at Knaresborough on the 15th August,
1 717, and was the son of a labourer. At the age of six he
was seized with smallpox, and on his recovery it was found
that he had become totally blind. Children speedily
accommodate themselves to circumstances. Jack in six
months was able to find his way from his father's cottage
along the street of Knaresborough and back home without
a guide, and in the course of three years could go to any
part of the little town alone, could find the shops, and
execute errands for his father or mother. He began also
to associate with other boys in bird-nesting expeditions, and
would climb the trees and throw down the nests to his com-
panions. By accompanying the boys in their rambles he
learned his way about the neighbourhood, and was in a short
time perfectly acquainted with all the lanes, woods, and
fields within a radius of two or three miles. As his father

• Chiefly from a Chapbook Life, written apparently shortly after his
death. Published at present by Johnson, of Leeds.

Blind Jack of Knaresborough. 1 2 1

kept horses, he learned to ride, and in time became an able
horseman. He was taught the fiddle, as it was thought that
the only means open to him for obtaining a subsistence was
that of strolling musician. But Jack Metcalf had more
natural taste for the cry of a hound or a harrier than for the
squeak of his fiddle.

A gentleman at Knaresborough, of the name of Wood-
burn, was owner of a pack of hounds. This gentleman
encouraged young Metcalf by taking him to hunt with him,
and Blind Jack kept five hounds of his own. Mr. Wood-
burn's hounds being seldom kennelled, Metcalf used to take
several of them out secretly along with his own at night when
the hares were out feeding in the fields ; but one of them
having destroyed a couple of lambs, he got into trouble, and
was obliged to discontinue his midnight excursions.

When about fourteen years old, his activity of limb led
him to imagine that he could undertake anything without
danger, and with certainty of success. The following
adventure, however, somewhat modified his opinion : —

A large plum-tree in the neighbourhood of Knaresborough
having attracted the attention of Metcalf's companions, they
with one consent repaired to the place on a Sunday morn-
ing. In these cases Metcalf was always appointed to
ascend for the purpose of shaking the trees. Accordingly,
lie was sent to his post ; but his comrades being suddenly
alarmed by the appearance of the owner of the tree, ran
away, leaving Blind Jack up the tree. He, taking the
alarm, dropped, and fell headlong into a gravel-pit belong-
ing to Sir Henry Slingsby, cut his face, and lay for some
time stunned in the pit.

Shortly after this, he and some other boys, one night
between eleven and twelve o'clock, assembled in the church

122 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

porch at Knaresborough — that being the usual place of
meeting. They determined to rob an orchard. Having
L.ccomplished this feat with success, they returned to the
church-porch to divide their booty. Now it happened that
the door of Knaresborough Church was opened by means
of a ring, which turned the latch. One of the party took
hold of it, and by way of bravado gave a loud rap, calling
out, " A tankard of ale here ! " A voice from within
answered aloud, " You are at the wrong house ! " The boys
were so scared that for a moment or two none spoke or
moved. At length Metcalf said, " Did not you hear some-
thing speak in the church ? " Upon this, without answer-
ing, they all ran until they got out of the churchyard. They
then held a consultation, all equally wondering at the voice,
and equally unable to account satisfactorily for it.

Like true Yorkshire boys, they were not, however, to be
scared away without knowing what had frightened them ;
and they stealthily returned to the porch. But no sooner
had they reached it, than the ring turned, and the door
began to open. This was too much even for their nerves,
and they fled in all directions like wind. Only on reaching
the outside of the churchyard wall did they venture to
breathe freely and look back, and then, lo ! the whole of the
interior of the church was alight —

"... Glimmering thro' the groaning trees,
Kirk Alloway seem'd in a bleeze."

Uninspired, like Tarn O'Shanter, with draughts of John
Barleycorn, they did not venture nearer, but dispersed to
their homes. The cause of this panic was as follows : —
The remains of an old lady in the neighbourhood had been
kept from interment until the arrival of her relations, who
lived at a great distance. Immediately on their arrival the

Blind Jack of Knarcsborough. 123

sexton was called up to dig the grave in the church, and
had lighted a great number of candles.

About the year 1731, when Metcalf was fourteen years
old, he began to learn swimming in the river Nidd, and
soon became so expert, that he surpassed all his com-
panions. About this time two men were drowned in the
eddies of the Nidd. Metcalf was sent to dive for the
bodies, and after four attempts, succeeded in bringing up
one of the corpses. The other body could not be found.

There are frequent floods in the river Nidd, and in the
deep places there are eddies, which draw to the bottom any
substance, however light, that comes within their sphere of
action. Large pieces of timber were often carried down
by the floods ; these on coming over the deep places spun
round, and then sank. Upon these occasions Metcalf
would dive for them, and with the greatest ease fix ropes
to the wood, which was then drawn up by persons stationed
on the banks.

In the year 1732, one John Barker kept an inn at the
west end of the High Bridge, Knaresborough. This man
was a manufacturer of linen cloth, and used to bleach his
own yarn. At one time, having brought two packs of yarn
to the river to wash, a sudden flood, occasioned by a heavy
rain in the neighbourhood, swept them away, and carried
them through the arches of the bridge, which stands on a
rock. A little below was a sheet of still water, supposed
to be twenty-one feet in depth ; as soon as the yarn got to
this it sank, except a little which caught the edge of the
rock in going down. Metcalf being intimate with Barker,
and calling at his house a few days after the accident,
found him lamenting his loss. Metcalf told him that he
hoped to recover the yarn, but Barker smiled at the sup-

i 24 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents,

posed absurdity of the proposal ; finding, however, that his
friend was resolved on trial, he consented. Metcalf then
ordered some long cart-ropes to be procured, and fixing a
hook at one end, the other being held by some persons on
the High Bridge, he descended, and hooking as much of
the yarn as he could at one time, gave orders for drawing
up. In this way the whole was recovered with little
damage.

At Bilton, two miles from Knaresborough, was a rookery,
where boys had made many attempts to take the young
ones ; but the owner wishing to preserve them, they were
prevented. Metcalf determined to make a trial ; sent one
of his comrades in the day-time to reconnoitre the position
of the nests ; and having received his information, they set
out in the dead of night, and brought away seven dozen
and a half, excepting the heads, which they left under the
trees. The owrner of the rooks finding the heads, offered
a reward of two guineas for the discovery of the offenders ;
but the secret was kept until long afterwards.

A person at Knaresborough having occasion to go to
Borough-Bridge, which is about seven miles distant, and
having left something behind, sent his son for it. Metcalf .
being about the same age as this boy, chose to accompany
him. When they got to the place the boy missed the key,
which he had lost from his pocket by the way, and being
afraid to return, he consulted Metcalf how they should
proceed. Metcalf was for entering the house at all events,
and not being able to procure a ladder, got a pole, which
reached to the thatch, and having borrowed a rope and a
stick, he climbed up the pole, and then ascending by the
roof to the chimney, he placed the stick across, and fasten-
ing the rope to it, attempted to descend, but finding the

Blind Jaclc of Knaresborough. 125

flue too narrow, he threw off his clothes, and laying them
on the ridge of the house, made a second attempt, and
got down by the assistance of the rope ; he then opened
the door for his companion. While they were in the hou^
there was a heavy thunder-shower, to which Metcalf s
clothes were exposed. He attempted to get up again to
fetch them, but the pole by which he had ascended was
now so wet that he could not climb by it ; he was therefore-
obliged to wait till it dried, when he succeeded in recover-
ing his clothes.

In the year 1733, Metcalf was invited to Harrogate to
succeed as fiddler an old man of the name of Morrison,
who had played there for seventy years. The old man
died in the 102nd year of his age, and played in the year
he died. Metcalf was well received by the nobility and
gentry, who employed no other fiddler, except a boy, whom
he hired as an assistant.

Metcalf now bought a horse, and often ran him for
small plates. He kept game-cocks, as he was devotedly
fond of cock-fighting. He often hunted, and sometimes
went coursing. In the evenings he played at the assem-
blies.

About this time there was a long room built at the Green
Dragon at Harrogate. More music being then wanted, he
engaged one Midgeley (one of the Leeds waits) and his
son as assistants. Midgeley, senior, being a good per-
former, was taken into partnership gratis, but the son and
Metcalf s former assistant paid five pounds each as premium.

In the year 1735, Francis Barlow, Esq., of Middlethorpe,
near York, who kept a pack of hounds, was at Harrogate,
and liking Metcalf, invited him to spend the winter at
Middlethorpe, and bring his horse with him. The invita-

126 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

tion was gladly accepted, and he went out with Mr.
Barlow's hounds twice a week. Having completed a visit
of six months at Middlethorpe, he had learnt to walk
and ride very readily through most of the streets of York,
and as he was riding past the George Inn, in Coney
Street, Standish, the landlord, stopped him, calling out,
""What haste?" Metcalf told him he was for Knares-
borough that night ; the landlord replied that there was
a gentleman in the house who wanted a guide to Harro-
gate ; adding, " I know you can do that as well as anyone."
— " So I can," said he, " but you must not let him know
that I am blind, for perhaps he will be afraid to trust
me." — " I shall manage that," replied Standish. So going
in, he informed the gentleman that he had procured a
safe guide. Pleased at this, the gentleman requested Met-
calf to come in and take a glass. This, for an obvious
reason, the landlord objected to, on the part of Metcalf,
but recommended some wine at the door. Mttcalf started
as soon as the wine was drunk, taking the lead, naturally
enough. As they were turning Ousegate corner, a voice
shouted out, " Squire Barlow's Blind Huntsman ! "
But the gentleman had no suspicion that the cry had
any reference to his guide. They rode briskly up Mickle-
gate, through the Bar, turned the corner at Holgate, and
through Poppleton Field, on to Hessay Moor, and so pro-
ceeded forward, going over Skip Bridge. At this time the
turnpike was not made between York and Harrogate.

On the north-west of Kirk-Hammerton Moor the road
to Knaresborough joined the main road which leads to
Borough Bridge by a sudden turn to the left ; but Metcalf
cleared that without any difficulty. When they came to
Allerton-Mauleverer, the stranger asked whose large house

Black Jack of Knaresborougk. 127

that was on the right, and was immediately informed by
Metcalf. A little farther on, the road is crossed by the one
from Wetherby to Borough Bridge, and proceeds along by
the high brick wall of Allerton Park. There was a road
leading out of the park opposite to the gate upon the
Knaresborough road, which Metcalf was afraid of missing,
but the wind being from the east, and he perceiving a blast
coming through the park gate, readily turned his horse to
the opposite gate, which leads to Knaresborough. Reach-
ing out his hand to open it, and feeling the heel, as it is
called, he believed the gate had been changed in the
hanging part, as he had not been there for seven months ;
and backing his horse, exclaimed, " Confound thee ! thou
always goes to the gate's heel, instead of the head ! " The
gentleman observed to him that his horse seemed awkward,
and that his own mare was good at coming up to a gate ;
whereupon Metcalf permitted him to perform this office.
Darkness, which had now come on, being no obstruction to
him, he briskly led the way, resolved that his companion
should not again see his face till they got to Harrogate.
As they were going through Knaresborough the gentleman
proposed a glass of wine, which Metcalf refused, alleging
that the horses were hot, and that as they were near their
journey's end, it was not worth their while to stop.

Forward they went, and presently some one cried out,
" That's Blind Jack ! " This, however, was contradicted by
another person, who could not clearly distinguish him ; and
by this means the stranger was kept in the dark as effectually
as his guide. They then proceeded over the High Bridge
and up Forest Lane, and entered the forest about a mile
from Knaresborough. They had now to pass along a
narrow causeway which reached about one-third of the way

128 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

to Harrogate, the forest at that time not being inclosed,
and no turnpike being made. Metcalf still kept the lead.

When they had gone a little way upon the forest the
gentleman saw a light. He asked what place it was. There
were some rocks called Hookston Crags, and near to
these the ground was low and swampy in some places,
close by which runs the Leeds road. About this part
Will-o'-the-Wisp used to be commonly seen. Metcalf took
it for granted that his companion had seen one of these
lights, but for good reasons declined asking him where-
abouts the light was ; and to divert his attention, asked
him, " Do you not see two lights — one to the right, the
other to the left ? " — " No," replied the gentleman, " I
see but one — to the right." — " Well, then, sir," said
Metcalf, " that is Harrogate." There were then many
tracks, but Metcalf made choice of that nearest the fence.
By the side of this path, which is very near Harrogate,
some larches were planted, and stepping-stones laid for the
convenience of foot-passengers. Metcalf got upon this
stony path, and the gentleman's horse following, got one of
his hind feet jammed between two of the stones. When his
horse was freed, he asked, " Is there no other road ? " —
" Yes," replied Metcalf, " there is another, but it's a mile
about " ; knowing there was a dirty cart-way, but thinking
the stony road preferable to the deep slough of the other,
he preferred this rugged path.

On reaching their journey's end, they stopped at the
house called the Marquis of Granby, but found that the
hostler was gone to bed. Metcalf being very well ac-
quainted with the place, led both the horses into the
stable, and the hostler soon after appearing, he delivered
them into his care, and went into the house to inquire after

Blind yach of Knaresborough. 129

his fellow-taveller, whom he found comfortably seated over
a tankard of negus, in which he pledged his guide. Met-
calf took the tankard the first time very nicely, but when
attempting to take it the second time, he reached out his
hand wide of the mark ; however, he soon found it, and
drank, and going out again, left the landlord with his com-
panion. " I think, landlord," said the gentleman, " my
guide must have drunk a great deal of spirits since we came
here." — " Why, my good sir, what makes you think so ? "
— " Well, I judge so from the appearance of his eyes." —
" Eyes ! bless you, sir," rejoined the landlord, " do you not
know that he is blind?" — "What do you mean?" — "I
mean, sir, that he cannot see ! " — " Blind ! Are you in
earnest ? " — " Yes, sir ; as blind as a stone ! " — " Come,
come, landlord," said the gentleman, "this is too much.
Call him in." Metcalf entered. " My friend, are you
really blind ?" — " Yes, sir ; I lost my sight when six years
old." — " Had I known that, I would not have ventured
with you for a hundred pounds." — " And I, sir," said Met-
calf, " would not have lost my way for a thousand." Metcalf
was rewarded by a present of two guineas, besides a plenti-
ful entertainment the next day at the cost of this gentleman.

In 1736, when the Harrogate season commenced, Met-
calf resumed his musical occupation, and was well received
at all the inns, where he was always given free quarters for
himself and horse.

The Green Dragon at that place was kept by a Mr. Body,
who had two nephews with him ; and when the hunting
season drew near its close, these, with some other young
men, expressed a desire for a day's sport; and knowing
that Mr. Woodburn, the master of the Knaresborough
pack of hounds, had often lent them to Metcalf, they asked

1 30 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

Blind Jack to procure for them the pleasure of a run.
Metcalf had no doubt but that Mr. Woodburn would grant
him this favour, and went, flushed with hope, to Mr.
Woodburn, requesting him to lend the pack the next day.
This, however, was a favour out of his power to grant, as
Mr. Woodburn politely informed him, as he had engaged
to meet Mr. Trappes with the hounds next morning upon
Scotton Moor, for the purpose of entering some young fox-
hounds. Chagrined at this, Metcalf debated with himself
whether the disappointment should fall to the lot of Mr.
Woodburn's friends or his own, and resolved that it should
not be to the latter. He arose the next morning before
daybreak, and crossed the High Bridge. He took with
him an excellent hound of his own, and nipping him by
the ears, made him give mouth loudly, himself hallooing at
the same time. This device had so good an effect that in
a few minutes he had nine couples about him, as the
hounds were kept by various people about the shambles,
&c, and were suffered to lie unkennelled. Mounting his
horse, away he rode with the dogs to Harrogate, where he
met his friends, ready mounted and in high spirits. Some
of them proposed going to Bilton wood, near Knares-
borough, but this was opposed by Metcalf, who preferred
the moor ; in fact, he was apprehensive of being followed
by Mr. Woodburn, and wished accordingly to be at some
distance from Knaresborough.

Following his advice, they drew the moor at the distance
of five miles, where they started a hare, killed her after a
fine chase, and immediately put up another. Just at this
moment up came Mr. Woodburn, foaming with anger,,
swearing terribly, and threatening to send Metcalf to the
House of Correction.

Blind Jack of Knaresborough. i 3 1

He swung his whip round his head, intending to horse-
whip the rogue, but Metcalf heard the whistle of the lash
in the air, and escaped the stroke by making his horse
start aside.

Mr. Woodburn then endeavoured to call off his hounds,
but Metcalf, knowing the fleetness of his own horse, ven-
tured within speaking, but not within whipping distance of
him, and begged that he would permit the dogs to finish
the chase, alleging that it would spoil them to take them
off, and that he was sure they would (as they actually did)
kill in a very short time. Metcalf soon found that Mr.
Woodburn's anger had begun to abate ; and going nearer
to him, he pleaded in excuse a misunderstanding. The
apology was accepted, for Mr. Woodburn, though hot
of temper, was very good-natured ; and so the affair
ended.

Blind Jack became also very skilful at bowls, but he
always bargained that he should count three to his adver-
sary's one ; and he bribed the jacks to give him hints as to
the direction he was to throw, by the inflexion of their
voices, lowering their tones in speaking to one another if
he flung too much to the right, raising them if he threw too
wide on the left.

But what is far more singular is, that he was able to dis-
tinguish cards by their feel, and that by simply passing his
fingers over their surface. By this means he was able to
play whist and other games, and beat those opposed to
him ; by this means realising a little money.

These achievements were far from exhausting his ambi-
tion. He aspired to the acquaintance of jockeys, and
frequented the York races, where he betted, and was able
to make books with men of rank and position, who took

132 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

an interest in Jack on account of his affliction and energy
of character.

He commonly rode to the race-ground amongst the
crowd, and kept in memory both the winning and losing
horses.

Being much in the habit of visiting York in the winter
time, a whim would often take him to call for his horse at
bed-time, and set out for Knaresborough, regardless of the
badness of the roads and weather, and of all remonstrance
from his friends.

About the year 1738, Metcalf having increased his stud,
and being aware of the docility of that noble animal the
horse, he so tutored his own that whenever he called them
by their respective names they would immediately answer
him by neighing. This was chiefly accomplished by some
discipline at the time of feeding. He could, however,
without the help of those responses, select his own horse
out of any number.

Having matched one of his horses to run three miles for
a wager of some note, and the parties agreeing to ride each
his own, they set up posts at certain distances in the
forest, making a course of one mile ; having, of course,
three miles to go. Great odds were laid against Metcalf,
upon the supposition of his inability to keep the course.
But Blind Jack was quite equal to the occasion. He pro-
cured four dinner-bells, and placed a bell-man at each post.
Each man rang in turn, and Metcalf was thus able to run
from one post to the next, and know where to turn his
horse. By this means he was able to win the race.

A gentleman who was present, named Skelton, then came
up, and proposed to Metcalf a small wager, that he could
not gallop a horse of his 50 yards, and stop him within

Blind Jack of Knaresborough. 133

joo. This horse was notorious as a runaway, and had
baffled the efforts of the best and strongest riders to hold
him. Metcalf agreed to the wager on condition that he
might choose his ground ; but Skelton bargained that there
should be neither hedge nor wall on the course, lest his
horse should be injured. Metcalf agreed ; the stakes were
deposited ; and knowing that there was a large bog near
the Old Spa at Harrogate, he mounted at about a dis-
tance of 150 yards from it. Having observed the
wind, and placed a person who was to sing a song to
guide him by the sound, he set off at a full gallop
towards the bog, and soon fixed the horse saddle-deep
in the mire. He then floundered through the dirt as
well as he was able, till he gained a firm footing, when he
demanded his wager, which was allotted him by general
suffrage. It was with the greatest difficulty, however, that
the horse could be extricated. That Metcalf was so well
acquainted with the spot was owing to his having about
three weeks before relieved a stranger who had got fast in
it in the night, and whose cries had attracted him.

It was now no unusual thing with him to buy horses with
a view to selling them. Happening to meet with a man who
had been huntsman to Sir John Kaye, and who had a horse
to sell, Metcalf inquired the price of the horse, and asked
to try it. Having trotted the horse a mile or two, he
returned, and told the owner that the eyes of his nag would
soon fail. The man, however, stood firm to his demand of
25 guineas for the horse, alleging that he was beautifully
moulded, only six years old. and his action good. Metcalf
then followed the man into the stable, and desired him to
lay his hand upon the eyes of the horse, and feel their
unusual heat ; asking, at the same time, how he could, in

1 34 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

conscience, demand so great a price for a horse that was
going blind. The treaty ended with Metcalf purchasing
the horse, bridle, and saddle for ^14.

A few days after, as he was riding on his new purchase,
he ran against a sign-post upon the common, near a toy-
shop, and nearly threw it down. Not discouraged by this,
he set off for Ripon to play at an assembly ; and passing
by a place at Harrogate called the World's-End, he over-
took a man going the Ripon road : with him Metcalf laid
a wager of sixpenny-worth of liquor that he would get first
to an ale-house at some distance. The ground being
rough, Metcalf s horse soon fell, and lay for a while on the
thigh of his master, when, making an effort to rise, he cut
Metcalf's face with one of his fore-shoes. The Rev. Mr.
Richardson, coming up at this moment and expressing his
concern for the accident, Metcalf told him that nothing had
hurt him but the cowardice of his horse, who had " struck
him whilst he was down." His instrument, however,
suffered so materially, that he was obliged to borrow one
to perform on for the night at Ripon, to which place he got
without further accident. The assembly over, he set off to
return to Harrogate, and arrived there about three in the
morning.

He now thought it was time to dispose of his fine horse,
whose eyes began to discharge much. After applying
the usual remedies of alum blown into the eyes, rowelling in
different parts, &c, he found him in marketable condition ;
and knowing that there would scon be a great show of horses
without Micklegate Bar at York, he resolved to take the
chance of that mart ; and setting out the night before, put
up at the Swan, in Micklegate. The next morning, when
the show began, Metcalf's nag attracted the notice of one

Blind Jack of Knarcsborough. 13

oo

Carter, a very extensive dealer, who asking the price, was
told twenty-two guineas. Carter then inquired if he was
sound, and received for answer, " I have never known him
lame ; but I will trot him on this pavement, and if there
be any ailment of that sort it will soon appear with my
•weight." The dealer bade him sixteen guineas, and a little
after seventeen; which Metcalf, for well-known reasons,
•was glad to receive.

In the year 1738 Metcalf attained the age of twenty-one
years and the height of six feet one inch and a-half, and
was remarkably robust withal.

About this time Dr. Chambers of Ripon had a well-
made horse with which he used to hunt, but finding that he
had become a great stumbler, he exchanged him with
a dealer, who took him to Harrogate, and meeting with
Metcalf told him he had an excellent hunter to sell at a low
price. Metcalf desired to try how the horse leaped, and the
owner agreeing, he mounted him, and found that he could
leap over any wall or fence the height of himself when
saddled. The bargain was soon struck, and this happening
at the Queen's Head Hotel, several gentlemen who were
witnesses of the horde's performance invited Metcalf to
accompany them two days after to Belmond Wood, where
a pack of hounds were to throw off. These hounds were
the joint property of Francis Trappes, Esq., and his
brother, of Nidd, near Ripley. A pack superior to this
was not to be found in the kingdom.

The wished-for day arriving, Metcalf attended the gentle-
men, and the hounds were not long in finding. The fox
took away to Humpton Rocks, but finding all secure there,
he made for Stockeld Wood, and found matters in the
same state as at Plumpton — he had then run aboutsix

1 36 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

miles : he came back and crossed the river Nidd near the
old abbey, and went on the east side of Knaresborough to
a place called Coney-Garths (where there were earths),
near Scriven. Metcalfs horse carried him nobly, pulling
hard, and he required proportionate resistance. The wind
being high, Metcalf lost his hat, but would not stop to
recover it ; and coming to Thistle Hill, near Knares-
borough, he resolved to cross the river at the Abbey Mill,
having often before gone on foot over the dam-stones.
When he got to the dam he attended to the noise of the
fall as a guide, and ranging his horse in a line with the
stones, dashed forward for some part of the way ; but the
stones being slippery with a kind of moss, the horse
stumbled, but recovered this and a second blunder; the
third time, however, floundering completely, away went
horse and rider into the dam. Metcalf had presence of
mind to disengage his feet from the stirrups during the
descent, but both the horse and himself were immersed
over head in water. He then quitted his seat and made
for the opposite side, the horse following him. Having
secured his nag, he laid himself down on his back and held
up his heels to let the water run out of his boots, which
done, he quickly remounted and went up a narrow lane
which leads to the road betwixt Knaresborough and
Wetherby ; then through some lanes on the north-east side
of Knaresborough, and crossing the Borough Bridge Road,
he got to the Coney-Garths, where he found that the
whipper-in only had arrived before him.

Here the fox had earthed, as was expected ; and the
other horsemen (who had gone over the Low Bridge and
through the town) after some time came up. They were
much surprised at finding Metcalf there, and attributed the

Blind facte of Knarcsborotigh. 137

soaked condition of himself and horse to profuse sweating;
nor were they undeceived till they reached Scriven.

Soon after this, Blind Jack was at Scarborough. As he
was walking one day on the sands with a friend, he
resolved to take a swim in the sea, his companion agreeing
to shout out when he should think he had gone far enough
outward ; but the other not making a sufficient allowance
for the noise of the sea, suffered him to go out of hearing
before he shouted, and Metcalf continued swimming until
he got out of sight of his friend, who now expected to see
him no more. At length Metcalf began to think he must
have got out of hearing of his friend, and becoming rather
tired he turned on his back to rest himself, his ears being
covered with water ; but after he had sufficiently rested he
turned himself again, and removing the hair of his head from
his ears, began to listen, when he thought he heard the
breakers beating against the pier which defends the Spa ;
finding by the noise that he was at a great distance, he
increased his efforts, and providentially taking a right
direction, he landed in safety, to the immense relief of his
friend.

Having an aunt at Whitby, near the Alum Works, he
went there, left his horse, and got on board an alum ship
bound for London. He arrived at the metropolis, stayed
there only a few weeks, played on the violin, and did very
well ; but meeting so many acquaintances, did not think
himself safe. After some time, meeting with a vessel, he
returned back again to Whitby; and having a numerous
acquaintance at Newcastle, formed at Harrogate, he went
thither, and was kindly received by many persons.
Amongst the rest was one Councillor Grey, who invited
Metcalf to dine with him every day during the time he

i^S Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

should stay, which was about a month. One day he said
to Metcalf, " You and I are near a size," and brought
down a suit of clothes, saying, " I think these will fit you,
and are at your service if you please to accept them ; they
have scarcely been worn ; go into the next room and try
them on." Metcalf then left Newcastle and went to
Sunderland, where he staid a short time among the sailors ;
then proceeded to Whitby to his aunt's, with whom he had
left his horse, as she was in tolerable circumstances; after
that he determined to go to Knaresborough, and set off in
the forenoon, intending to call at Mr. Varley's, as he had
been there for six months shortly before. He had company
over the moor to Pickering, as he had never been that
road. At Pickering his company left him.

He then went to Malton, which was six miles, though he
had never been that road before, but had been at Malton ;
he got safe there, and continued along the York road. A
little from Malton his horse began to tire at a place called
Crombeck, where there is a ford dangerous in times of
flood. It happened to be a very rainy time, and his horse
being weak, he took hold of the briule-rein to lead him
through, not being afraid of the water himself, but fearful of
drowning his horse. Having got safe through, he pursued
his journey, but his horse being weak, he was under the
necessity of leading him part of the road, and walking some-
times up to the boot-tops in dirt.

He soon came to a common called Stockton Moor, about
four or five miles from York, where was neither turnpike
nor paved causeway at that time, and he had got out of the
track and was in great difficulty ; but fortunately he heard
a cock crow in Stockton, and by turning in the direction
whence he heard the call of chanticleer, he got into

Blind Jaclc of Knaresborough. 139

Stcckton. From this place there was a paved causeway all
the way to York, upon which he went, now feeling himself
safe. He then came down Goodram Gate, crossed Peter
Gate, down the Shambles, and through Pavement, over
Ouse Bridge, turned into Skelder Gate, and through the
Postern, it being in the dead of night, but he wanted no
guide, as he knew the places so well ; then coming to
Middlethorpe, the gates were fast : they were made of wood,
with iron spikes at the top, which made it difficult to climb
over ; but necessity being the mother of invention, he called
forth her aid. Metcalf took the bridle from off his horse's
head, doubled the rein, and throwing it over one of the
spikes of the gate, by that means and the help of a corner
of the wall that joined the gate, he got up and climbed
over ; but when he was at the top his situation was perilous,
for if his foot had slipped he would have fallen on the
spikes and been impaled. He then opened the gates, and
led his horse through, and greatly surprised some women
by his appearance, who happened to be up washing. When
daylight appeared, the family received him very kindly.
He stayed about three weeks, and then returned to Knares-
borough, where he met with a north countryman who
played on the bagpipes and frequented the houses of many
gentlemen in town. He had been in London several
times, and he advised Metcalf to take a trip with him,
which he did.

By this man Metcalf found out several gentlefolks who
were in the habit of visiting Harrogate during the season,
and amongst others Colonel Liddell, who resided in King
Street, Covent Garden, and who gave him a general invi-
tation to his house. The colonel was member of Parliament
for Berwick-upon-Tweed, and lived at Ravensworth Castle,

140 Yorkshi}'e Oddities and Incidents.

near Newcastle-upon-Tyne ; and on his return from London
to the North, which generally took place in the month of
May, he was accustomed to spend three weeks at Harrogate.
When the winter was over, Metcalf thought he must take
a walk out of London. Accordingly he set out through
Kensington, Hammersmith, Colnbrook, Maidenhead, and
Reading, in Berkshire; and returned by Windsor and
Hampton Court to London in the beginning of May. In
his absence Colonel Liddell had sent to his lodgings to let
him know that he was going to Harrogate, and that if agree-
able to him he might go down either behind his coach or
on the top. Metcalf on his return waited upon the colonel
and thanked him, but declined his kind ofifer, observing that
he could with great ease walk as far in a day as he would
choose to travel in his coach. The next day at noon the
colonel and his suite, consisting of sixteen servants on horse-
back, set off, Metcalf starting about an hour before them.
They were to go by the way of Bugden, and he proceeded
as far as Barnet. A little way from Barnet the Bugden and
St. Alban's roads part, and he had taken the latter; how-
ever, he arrived at Welling, the place where they wrere to
sleep, a little before the colonel, who was surprised at his
performance. Metcalf set off again next morning before his
friends, and coming to Biggleswade, found the road was
crossed with water, there being no bridge at that time. He
made a circuitous cast, but found no other way except a
foot-path, which he was doubtful whether to trust. A per-
son coming up, asked, " What road are you for ? " He
answered, " For Bugden." " You have had some liquor
this morning, I suppose ? " said the stranger. " Yes," re-
plied Metcalf, although he had tasted none that day. The
stranger then bid him follow, and he would direct him into

Blind Jade of Knaresborough. 1 4 1

the highway. Soon after, they came to some sluices with
planks laid across, and Metcalf followed by the sound of his
guide's feet ; then to a gate on one side of the turnpike,
which being locked, he was told to climb over. Metcalf was
struck with the kind attention of his conductor, and taking
twopence from his pocket, said, " Here, good fellow, take
that, and get thee a pint of beer " ; but the other declined
it, saying he was welcome. Metcalf, however, pressing the
reward upon him, was asked, "Can you see very well?''
" Not remarkably well," he replied. " My friend," said the
stranger, " I do not mean to tithe thee — I am rector of this
parish; and so God bless you, and I wish you a good
journey." Metcalf set forward with the parson's bene-
diction, and stopped every night with the colonel. On
coming to Wetherby, he arrived at the inn before him, as
usual, and told the landlord of his approach, who asked
him by what means he had become acquainted with that,
and was informed by him how he had preceded the colonel
the whole week, this being Saturday, and they had left town
on Monday noon. The colonel arriving, ordered Metcalf
into his room, and proposed halting till Monday, but Met-
calf replied, " With your leave, sir, I shall go to Harrogate
to-night, and meet you there on Monday." So he set off
for Knaresborough that night, and met the colonel at
Harrogate on Monday, as he had said.

Metcalf became now in great request as a performer at
Ripon assembly, which was resorted to by many families of
distinction, such as Sir Walter Blacket of Newby ; Sir John
Wray, Sir R. Graham, Squire Rhodes, Squire Aislaby of
Studley, and many others. When he played alone, it was
usual with him after the assembly to set oft' for Harrogate or
Knaresborough ; but when he had an assistant he remained

142 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

all night at Ripon to keep him company, his partner being
afraid to ride in the dark.

Finding himself worth ^15 (a larger sum than he ever
had before), and a main of cocks having been made in the
neighbourhood, he became a party, and lost two-thirds of
his whole fortune. The remaining ^5 he laid out on a
horse which was to run at York a few days later ; and had
the good fortune to win the last wager.

Metcalf still followed cock-fighting, cards, and racing, but
continued to play at the assemblies ; but his profession
interfered with his sports, and he cast about in his mind
how to obtain an independence. Now it fell out that about
this time a Miss Benson, daughter of the host of the Royal
Oak, was about to be married to a young man whom
Metcalf was convinced she did not like. It was a match
made up by the parents, and there was no affection in it —
at least on her side. Blind Jack had some reason to think
that the fair lady was not insensible to him, and he hastened
to Harrogate, and hung about the Royal Oak till he had
an opportunity of speaking to the damsel, who was to be
married the very next day. Metcalf used his most urgent
persuasion with the girl to elope with him that night, and
obtained from her a tardy consent. It was arranged that
she should put a lighted candle in the window when ready
to run away, and Metcalf engaged a friend to look out for
the candle for him.

This having been settled, the lady went into the house,
and in a short time was followed by Metcalf, who was
warmly received by the supposed bridegroom and company.
The tankard went briskly round with " Success to the in-
tended couple ! " in which toast, it may be readily believed,
Metcalf joined most cordially.

Blind Jack of Knaresborough. 143

Having stayed till it was near dark, he thought it time
for putting business into proper train. Going then to the
public-house known by the name of the World's End, he
inquired for the hostler, whom he knew to be a steady
fellow ; and after obtaining from this man a promise either
to serve him in an affair of moment in which he was
engaged, or keep the secret, he related the particulars of
his assignation and the intended elopement, to forward
which he desired him to let them have his master's mare,
which he knew would carry two. This agreed on, he
requested the further service of meeting him at Ross's
Library at ten o'clock. A whistle was to be given by the
first who got there, as a signal. They met pretty punc-
tually, and Metcalf asked if he saw a star, meaning the
lighted candle. After half-an-hour's delay the signal-light
appeared. They then approached the house, and left the
horses at a little distance, not choosing to venture into the
court-yard, which was paved. On the door being opened
by the lady, he asked her if she was ready, and she replied
i nthe affirmative. He advised her, however, to pack up a
dress or two, as she probably might not see her mother
again for some time. She had about twenty gowns at that
time, and a new pillion and cloth. Metcalf asked her for
it. " Oh, dear," said she, " it is in the other house j but
we must have it." She then went to the window, and
called up her sister, who let her in. The pillion and cloth
were in the room where the intended bridegroom slept,
and on his seeing her enter, she said, " I will take this and
brush it, that it may be ready in the morning." — "That's
well thought on, my dear," said he. She then went down,
and all three hastened to the horses. Metcalf mounted her
behind his friend, then got upon his own horse, and away

144 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

they went. At that time it was not a matter of so much
difficulty to get married as it is at present, and they had
only the trouble of riding twelve miles, and a fee to pay,
without any calling of banns requiring a delay of three
weeks.

Metcalf left his bride at a friend's house within five
miles of Harrogate, and came to the Queen's Head to
perform the usual service of playing his violin during the
breakfast half-hour. In the meantime Mrs. Benson and
her other daughter began to prepare for breakfast, and
observing that Dolly lay very long in bed, her mother
desired that she might be called ; but her usual bed-fellow
declaring that she had not slept with her, she was ordered
to seek her in some of the other rooms. This was done,
but in vain. They then took it for granted that she had
gone out early to take a morning ride with Mr. Dickenson
{the intended bridegroom), but he could give no account of
her. All her friends now began to be seriously alarmed,
and a person from the Oak came and informed Metcalf of
all that had happened there that morning.

Metcalf listened seriously to the news, and then com-
posedly said, " You need not be alarmed. I married
her since you saw me last night ! "

He then sent a message through the brother of his Dolly
to the father and mother, to the effect that he asked their
pardon. He acknowledged he was far below them in
circumstances, but his affection for their daughter was
sincere, and he promised that he would make them the best
amends in his power by affectionate treatment of his wife.

It is hardly to be supposed that they were molified by
this assurance.

Metcalf took a small house at Knaresborough. It was a

Bli?id Jacl: of Knarcsborough. 145

matter of wonder that Miss Benson should have preferred a
blind man to Dickenson, she being as handsome a woman as
any in the country. A lady having asked her why she had
refused so many good offers for Blind Jack, she answered,
" Because I could not be happy without him." And being
more particularly questioned, she replied, " His actions are
so singular, and his spirit so manly and enterprising, that I
could not help liking him."

Metcalf continued going to Harrogate as usual, and one
day determined to pay a visit to his mother-in-law. He
mounted his horse, and riding up to the kitchen-door called
for a pint of wine. There were then only women in the
house, who were afraid to serve him, and they all ran
upstairs in a fright. He then rode into the kitchen,
through the house, and out at the hall-door, no one
molesting him.

He afterwards went to demand his wife's clothes, but was
refused ; on a second application, however, he succeeded.
His wife having brought him a boy, and some respectable
people being the sponsors, they employed their good
offices to heal the breach between the families, and were
fortunately successful. On the birth of a daughter (the
second child) Mrs. Benson herself was godmother, and
presented Metcalf with twenty guineas.

He continued to play at Harrogate in the season ; and
set up a four-wheel chaise and a one-horse chair for public
accommodation, there having been nothing of the kind
there before. He kept these vehicles two summers, when
the innkeepers, beginning to run their own, he gave them
up, as he also did racing and hunting ; but still wanting
employment, he bought horses, and went to the coast for
fish, which he took to Leeds and Manchester ; and so

L

146 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

indefatigable was he that he would frequently walk for two
nights and a day with little or no rest j for as a family was
coming on he was as eager for business as he had been for
diversion, keeping up his spirits, and blessed with good
health.

Going from Knaresborough to Leeds in a snowstorm,
and crossing a brook, the ice gave way under one of his
horses, and he was under the necessity of unloading to get
him out ; but the horse as soon as free ran back to Knares-
borough, leaving him with two panniers of fish and three
other loaded horses in the midst of a snowstorm at night.
After much difficulty, however, he divided the weight
amongst the others, and pursuing his journey, arrived at
Leeds by break of day.

Once passing through Halifax, he stopped at an inn called
the Broad Stone. The landlord's son, and some others
who frequented Harrogate, seeing Metcalf come in, and
having often heard of his exploits, signified a wish to play
at cards with him ; he agreed, and accordingly they sent for
a pack, but before playing he asked to feel them over. The
man of the house being his friend, he could depend upon
his honour in preventing deception. They began to play,
and Metcalf beat four of them in turn, playing only for
liquor. Not satisfied with this, some of the company pro-
posed playing for money, and when engaged at shilling whist,
Metcalf won 15s. The losing party then proposed to play
double or quit, but Metcalf declined playing for more than
halfa-guinea points ; till at last, yielding to much impor-
tunity, he got engaged for guineas, and, favoured by fortune,
won ten, and a shilling for liquor each game, which com-
pletely cleared the loser of his cash, who took up the cards
and went out, but shortly returned with eight guineas more.

Blind Jack of Knarcsboi oiigli. 147

MetcalPs friend examined the cards to see if they were not
marked, and finding all fair, they went on again, until those
eight pieces followed the other ten. They then drank freely
at Metcalfs cost, he being now in circumstances to treat.
About ten o'clock at night he took his leave, saying he
must be at Knaresborough in the morning, having sent his
horses before. On his way he crossed the river Wharfe,
about a mile below Poole ; the water being high, his horse
swam, and he got safe home. Thus ended his pursuits as a
fishmonger, the profit being small and his fatigue very con-
siderable.

From the period of his discontinuing the business of
fishmonger Metcalf continued to attend Harrogate as a
player on the violin, in the long room, until the com-
mencement of the rebellion in 1745.

The alarm which took place was great; and loyalty
to the House of Hanover, and preparations against the
Jacobites, were general in the county of York.

Amongst the many instances which mark this, none were
more striking than the conduct of William Thornton of
Thornville, near Knaresborough, for he determined to
raise a company of soldiers at his own expense, and went to
Knaresborough about the ist of October, 1745, where he
sent for our blind hero to his inn, and asked him if he knew
of any brave fellows who were likely to make spirited sol-
diers. Jack having satisfied his patron on this head, he
was appointed assistant to a sergeant already procured, with
orders to begin recruiting the next day.

Such was their success that in two days only they enlisted
140 men at 5s. each, their allowance being is. per day;
out of whom the captain drafted sixty-four, the number of
privates he wanted. Soon after, he brought them to Thorn-

148 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

ville. where he ordered every other day a fat ox to be killed
for their entertainment, and gave them beer seven years-
old, expressing great pleasure at its being reserved for so
good a purpose.

He now began to sound the company as to their attach-
ment to the cause and to himself. " My lads ! " said he,
" you are going to form a part of a ring-fence to the finest
estate in the world ! The king's army is on its march
northward, and I have confidence that all of you are willing
to join them." They replied, enthusiastic for the whole ox
a day and the seven-year-old beer, " We will follow you to
the world's end ! "

All matters being adjusted, the company was drawn up,
and amongst them Blind Jack cut no small figure, being
near six feet two inches high, and, like his companions,
dressed in blue and buff, with a large gold-laced hat.
Jack played a march, and off the company moved for
Boroughbridge to join General Wade's army, which was
there.

On reaching Newcastle, by order of General Wade they
were united with Pulteney's regiment, which having suffered
much in some late actions, was thought unduly weak.
Captain Thornton gave orders for tents for his men and a
marquee for himself. He pitched them on Newcastle
Moor, and served out a pair of blankets to each tent. On
the first night of their encampment the snow fell six
inches.

After stopping there for about a week, the General
received intelligence of the motions of the Jacobite army
and gave orders to march by break of day for Hexham in
three columns, wishing to intercept it upon the west road,
as their route seemed to be for England that way. The

Blind Jack of Knaresborougk. 149

tents were instantly struck, but the Swiss troops in the van
not being willing to move at so early an hour, it was half-
past ten before they left the ground, and the snow by that
time was extremely deep. The troops were often three or
four hours in marching a mile, the pioneers having to cut
through some of the drifts, level some of the obstructions,
and fill up several ditches, to make a passage for the
artillery and baggage.

About ten at night they arrived at Ovington, the place
marked out for them, with straw to rest on ; but the ground
was frozen so hard that but few of the tent-pins would
enter in, and in those (qw tents which were pitched the
men lay upon one another, greatly fatigued with their
march, it having been fifteen hours from the time of their
striking their tents till their arrival at this place, although
the distance was only seven miles.

The next day they reached Hexham, where they halted.
On Monday night about ten o'clock the army was put in
motion by a false alarm. After stopping there about three
days, General Wade returned to Newcastle to catch the
post-road leading to Yorkshire, and immediately began his
march for Yorkshire by way of Pierse Bridge, Catterick,
and Boroughbridge ; and continuing his route southward,
encamped his men on Clifford Moor, where they halted a
few days, and then moved to ground between Ferrybridge
and Knottingley. The Scottish army had now penetrated
southward as far as Derby ; but the General having heard
that they had received a check from the Duke of Cumber-
land, sent General Oglethorpe with 1000 horse towards
Manchester, either to harass the enemy in their retreat, or
to join the Duke's forces; and retired himself with the re-
mainder, by Wakefield-Outwood and Leeds, to Newcastle.

1 50 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

In the meantime the Duke came up with the army of
Prince Charles Edward at Clifton, on the borders of West-
moreland. Lord George Murray occupied the town, and
the Highlanders were fortified behind hedges and a ditch.

The Duke coming upon the open moor after sunset, gave
orders for 300 dragoons to dismount and advance to the
brink of the ditch ; the rebels then fired upon them from
behind the hedges ; they returned the fire, and fell a few
paces back. The Highlanders, mistaking this for flight,
rushed over the ditch, but meeting a warmer reception
than they expected, were glad to retreat, and continued
their route to Penrith, and from thence to Carlisle, where
they left part of their army.

His Royal Highness thought it advisable to reduce this
place ; and on its surrender he returned to London.
General Wade continued his march for the North, dis-
missing all the foreigners from his army; and General
Hawley, on coming from London to take the command,
was joined by some regiments which had been withdrawn
from Flanders. They marched to Edinburgh, and from
thence to Falkirk, and pitched their tents on the north-east
side of the town on the 16th of January; the Highland
army being at Torwood, about midway between Falkirk
and Stirling, and about three miles from the English camp,
they could easily see each other's camp light. The English
army lay all night on their arms in expectation of being
attacked, but the van and picket-guards came in on the
morning of the 1 7th, having observed no motions in the
hostile camp which showed any signs of an attack, although
they were as near as safety would permit. Soon after, the
enemy were observed to move some of their flags from
Torwood towards Stirling, which made the English suppose

Blind Jack of Knarcsborough. 1 5 [

that they were retreating; but this motion was a feint
to deceive them. However, upon this the soldiers were
ordered to pile their arms and take some refreshment ; and
although Lord Kilmarnock was in the army of Prince
Charles Edward, General Hawley went to breakfast with
Lady Kilmarnock at Callender House. The enemy in the
meantime stole a march down a valley northward, un-
perceived ; but just before the army discovered them, they
were seen by a person, who ran into the camp exclaiming,
"Gentlemen! what are you about? The Highlanders
will be upon you ! " On which some of the officers said,
"Seize that rascal ; he is spreading a false alarm !" — "Will
you believe your own eyes ? " said the man ; and at that
moment the line of Highlanders was seen fringing the
high ground on Falkirk Moor.

It is unnecessary here to relate the details of the engage-
ment of Falkirk, so graphically described by Sir Walter Scott
in " Waverley," resulting in a momentary gleam of hope
to the adherents of Prince Charles Edward, and in as brief
a discouragement to the English. Captain Thornton lost
twenty of his men, together with his lieutenant and ensign,
who were taken prisoners. The captain was in a house
when the English were surprised, and hearing the bag-
pipes at the door, he ran up-stairs and hid in a room behind
the door. One of the Highlanders ran in, looked round,
but not seeing him, called out, " None of the rascals are
here."

The woman of the house having seen the captain go
up-stairs, went to him soon after, and opening a closet
door, entreated him to enter, which he did; she then
brought a dresser and placed dishes, &c, upon it, which
prevented all appearance of a door in that place ; and

152 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

fortunately there was no bed in the room. About ten
minutes after he had been fixed in his new quarters a great
number of people, consisting chiefly of Highland officers,
amongst whom was Secretary Murray, took possession
of the apartment, which being large, they proposed making
use of for business during their stay.

In the meantime Metcalf had escaped the Highlanders.
Knowing that two of his master's horses had been left at a
widow's house a short distance from the town, he made his
way to the place with intent to secure them. This woman
had in the morning expressed great seeming loyalty to
King George ; but when Metcalf returned in the evening,
the wind had changed : she now extolled Prince Charles,
and said, "The defeat of George's folk was a just
judgment."

Metcalf went into the stable and found the horses,
saddled them, and was leading out the first, when he was
surrounded by a few stragglers of the Highland army.
" We must have that beast," said they ; but Metcalf
refusing to give him up, they said one to another, " Shoot
him !" On hearing two of them cock their pieces, he
asked " What do you want with him ? " — They answered
that they wanted him for the Prince. — " If so, you must
have him," replied he. They took him, and immediately
went off. Metcalf then brought out the other, but as
he was about to mount, the captain's coachman (whose
name was Snowden), joined him, and Metcalf inquiring of
him the fate of his master, was answered that he had not
seen him for some time. This induced Metcalf to think
that the worst had befallen him. They then thought it
advisable to attempt falling in with the rear of the army,
but before they had proceeded many yards their horse

Blind J 'ack of Knaresboronrjh. 153

sank up to the saddle-girths in a bog; however, bein^
strong, and plunging out, they mounted again, and soon
joined the army as they had wished; when, on making
diligent inquiry after their captain, they were told that
he was left behind. Snowden thereupon returned as far a^
he could with safety, but without gaining any intelligence,
and Metcalf walked on with the army.

They arrived at Linlithgow, where they halted, and
the next day marched to Edinburgh. There the mob
and the lower orders of people were very free in
their expressions, and some of the higher also spoke out
warmly in favour of Prince Charles, making no secret of
their wishes and hopes that " the King should have his
own again."

The next morning as many of Captain Thornton's men
as had escaped being taken prisoners (about forty-eight in
number) assembled; and none of them knowing what had
become of the Captain, they supposed him to have shared
the fate of many other brave men who had fallen in the
action. There was therefore no more ox and beer to
sustain their loyalty. The disappearance also of two other
officers and twenty of their men greatly dispirited them,
and to this was added the suspension of their regular
pay. This induced some of them to apply to Metcalf for
a supply in order to carry them home ; but this he refused,
in part, no doubt, because he had not the means of paying
them.

The headquarters of the army were now at Edinburgh,
the staff being located in Holyrood Palace. The superior
Officers sent for Metcalf, thinking it singular that a person
deprived of sight should enter into the army. One of the
oiucers belonging to the dragoons who retreated from

154 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

Falkirk, speaking ironically of Thornton's men, asked
Jack how he got off the field of battle. Metcalf answered,
" I found it very easy to follow by the sound of the dragoon
horses, they made such a clatter over the stones." This
reply turned the laugh against the officer, who coloured
with anger and shame. Colonel Cockayne then asked how
he durst venture into the service, blind as he was. To
which he replied " that had he possessed a pair of good
eyes, he would never have come there to have risked the
loss of them by gunpowder." Then making his obeisance,
he withdrew.

He now determined upon a journey to Falkirk in search
of his captain ; but this being attended with difficulty, he
applied to a Knaresborough man who lived at Edinburgh,
and was of the party of Prince Charles Edward, telling
him that he wished to be a musician to the gallant young
Prince, as he found it was all over with the English. The
man informed him that they had a spy, an Irishman, going
to the Prince, and that he might travel with him. This he
agreed to do, and they started together ; but on coming up
to the English out-sentries they were stopped. Metcalf
inquired for the captain, and informed him of the real
cause of his journey. Ey him he was kindly advised to lay
aside his dangerous project ; but as he still persisted, he
was allowed to proceed with the spy, and arrived at Lin-
lithgow, where they stayed all night. They met with
several women who had been plundering, and were then
on their return to Edinburgh ; and the spy instructed them
how to avoid the English sentries. Metcalf was very
careful to examine the clothes they had got, making it
appear he wanted to purchase some, thinking that by
chance he might meet with some of his captain's, and so

Blind Jack of Knarcsborongh. 155

ascertain if he were dead. One of the women sent a
token by Metcalf to her husband, who was Lord George
Murray's cook. This woman's guide was a horse-dealer,
who soon became acquainted with Metcalf, having fre-
quented the fairs in Yorkshire, and at this time by some
means had got introduced to the heads of both armies, and
obtained a pass and orders from each to press horses. This
man's fate was remarkable ; for going into Stirling, where
the English army lay, he found that orders were given to
let no strangers pass without an examination. He said
that he had a protection from General Huske. Being
ordered to produce it, he had the misfortune to take that
out of his pocket which he had got from the Pretender ;
and when informed of his mistake instantly produced the
other. But too late ! for he was tied up by the neck to a
lamp-post and hung.

A short time before Metcalf and the spy left the
exchange at Linlithgow, some of the vanguard of the
rebels came in and called for whiskey ; and it was supposed
that they dropped there a silver-mounted pistol, which on
their setting out the spy picked up and offered to Metcalf.
He refused it, saying he thought it not advisable to have
fire-arms about him, as he expected to be searched. So
they pursued their journey, and presently fell in with the
rebel out-guard, several of whom accosted Metcalf, and as
all seemed well, they were allowed to pass, and arrived at
Falkirk, where Metcalf inquired for Lord George Murray's
cook, to deliver his present, and was afterwards introduced
to and conversed with Lord George Murray, Secretary
Murray, and other gentlemen. Lord George Murray gave
him part of a glass of wine, an article at that time of
great value, for as the rebels had been there three times,

156 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

and the English twice, they had almost swept the cup-
board clean of crumbs.

Whilst conversing with them he was very cautious,
knowing that his life was in danger if the real purpose
of his journey became known.

He then made his way towards the market-place, where
a number of Highlanders were assembled. This was on
Wednesday, the 22nd; but it happened that his master
had left the place that morning, about four hours before
his arrival.

We must now return to Captain Thornton, whom we
left on Friday in the closet, in close neighbourhood to the
Highland chiefs, who every day transacted business in the
room. The quartermasters of the Jacobite army having
taken the house, and given the woman to whom it belonged
a small apartment at the back, it made Captain Thornton's
position very critical ; but every night she took care to
carry him such provisions as she could convey through a
crevice at the bottom of the door, and this she did for
fear of alarming those who slept in the adjoining rooms.
The closet was only a yard and a half square, and the
captain's clothes being wet when he entered, made his
situation the more uncomfortable, as he had got a severe
cold, and sometimes could not forbear coughing even when
the rebels were in the room. Once in particular, hearing a
cough, they said one to another, " What is that ? " But
one of them answered that it was somebody in another
room, not in the least suspecting that one of their enemies
lay hid so near.

On Monday night the woman of the house went to the
door to carry provisions as usual, when the captain said to
her, " I am determined to come out, let the consequence

Blind Jack of Knarcsborough. 1 5 7

be what it may ; for I will not die like a dog in this hole."
But she begged that he would bear his confinement until
the next night, and she would adopt some plan to effect his
escape. She accordingly consulted an old carpenter who
was true to the Hanoverian cause, and he came the fol-
lowing night when the room was vacant, removed the
dresser, and liberated the captain. They proceeded down-
stairs in the dark to the woman's apartment, where she
made tea whilst the carpenter and captain concerted their
plan of operation. They dressed him in a plaid and brogues,
and put on him a black wig. The captain had only ten
guineas about him (having left his cash with his lieutenant,
Mr. Crofts), eight of which he gave to the woman who had
so faithfully preserved him, and two to the carpenter ; whor
to secrete them, put them into his mouth along with his
tobacco, fearful of a search by the Highlanders, who would
have suspected him had they found more than a shilling.

Everything being ready, they set out, the captain, with a
bag of tools, following his supposed master. On coming
into the crowd, the old carpenter looked about and was
rather dismayed, for although in disguise, the captain did
not look like a common workman. This made the old
man dread discovery, so he called out to him : " Come
alang, ye filthy loon ; ye have had half a bannack and
a mutchkin of drink in your wame : we shall be o'er late
for our day's wark." Whether this artifice served him or
not is uncertain j but they got safe through the throng,
and leaving the high road, pursued their journey across
the country. Having come to a rising ground, the captain
took a view of Falkirk Moor, and said, " Yonder's the
place where such a sad piece of work was made last
Friday." The old man at the same time looking the other

158 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

way saw about 300 Highlanders, who had been on plunder,
coming down a lane which led from Callander House (Lord
Kilmarnock's seat) into the main road ; and being desirous
of passing the end of this lane before they came up, in
order to avoid them, said, " We shall have a worse piece of
wark of it than we had on Friday if ye do not hasten your
pace," and begged the captain to come forward, which he
did ; but walking briskly up a hill, he suddenly stopped,
and said, " I am very sick." However, they gained their
point, and passed the Highlanders ; for had they come up
with them, the captain's speech or appearance might have
led to suspicion, and he would have been shot or led back
to Falkirk as a prisoner. On going two miles further, they
arrived at a house belonging to a friend of the carpenter's,
and which had been plundered. There the old man got an
egg, but not being able to find a pan to boil it in, he
roasted it in peat ashes, and gave it to the captain to put in
his wame or stomach. Proceeding a few miles further, they
arrived at another house, where they procured a horse for
the captain. He arrived at the English outposts, and
making himself known, was permitted to pass, and reached
Edinburgh in safety.

To return to Metcalf, whom we left at Falkirk, and
whose dress was a plaid waistcoat laced with gold, which
he had borrowed of a friend at Edinburgh, together with a
blue regimental coat faced with buff. Jack told the High-
landers, in answer to their inquiries, that he had been
fiddling for the English officers, and that they had given
him that coat, which had belonged to a man who was
killed ; and also that his intention was to serve in the
same capacity with Prince Charles. But a person coming
up who had seen Jack at Harrogate, said, "That fellow

Blind Jack of Knaresborough. 159

ought to be taken up, for there is something more than
common in his proceedings ; " on which Metcalf was taken
to the guard-room and searched for letters, but none were
found, he having only a pack of cards in his pocket, which
they split, to see if they contained any writing in the folds.
Finding nothing, he was put into a loft in the roof of the
building, along with a dragoon and some other prisoners,
and there for three days they were suffered to remain in
confinement, exposed to severe cold.

Metcalf and his fellow-prisoners were brought out at the
end of this time, and tried by a court-martial. Metcalf
was acquitted, and had permission given to go to the
Prince ; but as he asked to borrow a clean shirt they
inquired where his own was. He said at Linlithgow, but
that he durst not go there on account of George's fellows.
They then informed him he might safely go there along
with the Irish spy. He knew that his companion had
letters for the Highlanders' friends at Edinburgh, but had
no intention to pass the English sentries. Metcalf therefore
amused him with assurances that he had ^10 at Edinburgh,
for which he should have no occasion if he joined the
Prince, and that he would give his friend a share of it. The
spy on hearing this became very desirous of his company
to Edinburgh, wishing to finger the money, and proposed
going across the country ; but Metcalf said he could pass
the English sentries by saying he was going to Captain
Thornton. They then proceeded, and after going two miles
they met an officer who was reconnoitring, and he, knowing
Metcalf, told him that his master was arrived safely at
Edinburgh. On leaving the officer the spy accosted him
with, " So, then, you are going to him." " No ! " said Jack,
" nor to any such fellows." They then passed the sentry, as

160 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

Metcalf proposed, and arrived at Edinburgh, where they
parted, but promised to meet the next evening at nine
o'clock. Jack went directly to his captain, who rejoiced
at so unexpected a meeting. Metcalf told him that he had
given him a great deal of trouble, adding that he thought
people might come home from market without being fetched.
The captain smiled and said, " What is to be done, for I
have neither money nor clothes, having left all behind at
Falkirk ; but I have bills upon the road to the amount of
^"300 ? " This proved fortunate ; for had they been a few
days sooner, these also might have been lost. The reason
of the delay was that all letters directed to Scotland were
at this time sent to London, to be examined at the General
Post-Office. Metcalf told the captain that he could get him
some money, but this the other thought impossible. How-
ever, he went to a friend and obtained ^30. Tailors were
immediately set to work, and next morning the captain
was enabled to visit his brother officers at Holyrood.

The army remained quartered at Edinburgh, while part
of the rebels were in Falkirk, and another part at Stirling,
where they raised several batteries, and besieged Stirling
Castle.

The Duke of Cumberland arrived at Edinburgh on the
30th of January, 1746 ; and two days afterwards marched
at the head of the army towards Falkirk, Prince Charles*
army leaving it a little time before. Captain Thornton
visited the Duke often, and his Royal Highness took
particular notice of Metcalf, speaking to him several times
on the march. On the arrival of the army at Linlithgow,
intelligence was received that the rebels were marching
towards them to give them battle 3 upon which the army
was drawn up in order, and the Duke rode through the

Blind Jack of Knarcsborough. 1 6 1

lines, and addressed the men as follows: — "If there be
any who think themselves in a bad cause, or are afraid to
engage the enemy, thinking they may fight against any
of their relations, let them now turn out, receive pardon,
and go about their business without any further question."
On the conclusion of this speech, the whole army gave three
hearty cheers. But the intelligence proving false, they
proceeded to Falkirk, and continued their journey to
Stirling, Perth, Montrose, Brechin, and Aberdeen, where
they halted. The army of the Prince was encamped at
Strathbogie.

At Aberdeen the Duke gave a ball to the ladies, and
personally solicited Captain Thornton for his fiddler, there
being at that time no music in the army except Colonel
Howard's (the Old Buffs), which was wind music, and the
performers, who were Germans, were unaccustomed to
country dances. As the Prince's army was only twenty
miles distant, no invitations were sent until five o'clock,
though the ball was to begin at six. Twenty-five couples
danced for eight hours, and his Royal Highness made one
of the party, and several times as he passed Metcalf, who
stood on a chair to play, shouted " Thornton, play up ! "
But Jack needed no exhortation, for he was well practised
and better inclined.

Next morning the Duke sent him two guineas; but as he
was not permitted to take money, he informed his captain,
who said, as it was the Duke's money, he might take it, but
observed that he should give his Royal Highness's servants
a treat (he had only three servants with him — viz., his
gentleman, cook, and groom). So the next night two of
them paid Metcalf a visit, and a merry party they made,
the captain ordering them plenty of refreshments.

M

1 6 2 Yorkshire Oddrties and lnciden!s.

In a little time they p:,oceeded on their march, and
engaged the gallant army o'f the Prince on Culloden Moor.
The battle ended in the to tal rout of the array of the young
"Pretender," and the rrjassacre of his soldiers by the
Butcher Duke.

The English prisoners, were all liberated. Three of
Captain Thornton's mer \ had died in prison . the rest
returned home.

1 The rebellion having been completely suppressed and
peace restored, Captaf£ Thornton returned home, accom-
panied by Metcalf, - who had the happiness t0 find his
faithful partner and csMdren in good health>

Blind Jack being :now at llberty t0 choose his occupation,
attended Harrogatf. , as usua] . but havlng in the course of
his Scotch expediti ;on kept his eyes open (if we may use such
an expression of i blind mat)^ he had become acquainted
with various articl A manufactured in that country, and
judging that some ,of them might find a market in England,
he repaired in th > spring t0 Scotland, and supplied himself
with various artic * in cotton and worsted, especially Aber-
deen stockings. 4 For aU these articles he found a ready
sale at the hou f^ of gentleraen in the county of York;
and being pen -a0nally known t0 most of the famiiies, was
everywhere kr ndly receivedi He was never at a loss to
know amonrug Qne thousand articles what each had
cost him, tV* he had a method of marking them
which enable J^ him tQ distinguish them by the feel.
^as so' , customary with him to buy horses for sale
in Scotland, ^ bringing back galloways in return. He was
an admirabiKe judge of horSes by running his hands over
them.

He also engaged ^ pretty deeply in contraband trade, the

Blind Jack of Knarcsborough. 1 6 3

profits of which at that time were so considerable as to make
it worth while running the risk. Once, having received a
pressing letter from Newcastle-upon-Tyne requiring his
speedy attendance, he set out on horseback from Knares-
borough at three in the morning, and got into Newcastle
the same evening about six o'clock, a distance of nearly
seventy-four miles, and did not feel fatigued.

Having received some packages, he employed a few
soldiers to convey them to a carrier, judging that men
of their description were least liable to suspicion. After
sending off his goods, he staid two nights with some
relations, and then set out for home. He had with him
about a hundred-weight of tea, cased over with tow, and
tightly corded up ; this he put into a wallet, which he laid
across the saddle.

Coming to Chester-le -Street (about half-way between
Newcastle and Durham), he met at the inn an exciseman,
who knew him as soon as he had dismounted, and asked
him what he had got there. Metcalf answered, " It is
some tow and line for my aunt, who lives a few miles
distant. I wish she was far enough, for giving me the
trouble to fetch it." The officer said to him, " Bring it
in " ; he replied, " I am only here for a few minutes ;
it may as well remain on the horsing-stone." By this
seeming indifference about his packet he removed suspicion
from the mind of the exciseman, who assisted in replacing
it across the saddle.

Once having disposed of a string of horses, he bought
with the produce a quantity of rum, brandy, and tea, to the
amount of/^00, put them on board a vessel for Leith,
and travelled overland on foot to meet the vessel at that
port. He had about thirty rr.iles to walk, and carried near

164 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents,

five stone weight of goods, which he did not choose to put
on shipboard. At Leith he had the mortification to wait
six weeks without receiving any tidings of the vessel, which
many supposed to have been lost, there having been a
storm in the interval. The distress of mind resulting from
this induced him to say, " If she is lost I wish I had been
in her, for she had all my property on board." Soon after,
however, the ship got into Leith harbour. He then went
on board, and set sail for Newcastle; but another storm
arising, the mate was washed overboard, the main-sail
carried away, and the ship driven near the coast of Norway.
Despair now became general, the prospect of going to the
bottom seemed almost certain. Metcalf had now no wish to
go to the bottom with his property, and vowed he would
give all his fortune to touch dry earth again. But the wind
changing, hope began to return, and the captain put about
for the Scotch coast, intending to make Aberbrothock. A
signal of distress was put up, but the sea ran so high that
no boat could venture out with a pilot. He then stood in
for the harbour, but struck against the pier-end, owing
to the unmanageable state of the vessel from the loss of
her main-sail; she narrowly escaped being bulged, but
having got to the back of the pier, was towed round into
the harbour with nearly five feet of water in her hold.

As the vessel stood in need of repairs, Metcalf put his
goods on board another, and went in her to Newcastle.
There he met with an acquaintance, and thinking the
fellow trustworthy, over his cups informed him that he had
got 400 gallons of gin and brandy for which he had a
permit, and about thirty gallons for which he had none,
and which he wanted to land. In a quarter of an hour he
found that the man whom he had taken for a friend

Blind Jack of Knarcsborough. 1 6 5

had gone down the quayside and given information of
what he knew, and all the goods were seized and brought
on shore. Metcalf imagined that none were seizable but
the small part for which he had not obtained a permit ; but
was soon undeceived, the whole being liable to seizure as
not agreeing with the specified quantity.

He then repaired to the Custom-house and applied to
Mr. Sunderland, the collector. This gentleman knew
Metcalf, whom he had seen at Harrogate ; he received him
very kindly, but informed him that it was not in his power
to serve him, the captors being the Excise people, and not
of his department. He, however, suggested that some good
might result from an application to Alderman Pelreth, with
whom Metcalf was acquainted, and who was intimate with
the collector of the Excise. The alderman gave him a
letter to the collector, representing that the bearer had
bought 400 gallons of spirits at the Custom-house at
Aberdeen, and that the extra quantity was for the purpose
of treating the sailors and other friends, as well as for
sea-stock for himself. At first the collector told him that
nothing could be done for him until he should write up to
the Board, and receive an answer; but Metcalf remon-
strating on the inconvenience of the delay, and the other
reconsidering the letter, he agreed to come down to the
quay at four o'clock in the afternoon, which he accordingly
did, and released everything without any expense.

A short time after, the regiment called " The Queen's
Bays " were raised ; they were quartered at Knaresborough
and the adjacent towns; but after a short stay they were
ordered to the North. The country people seemed un-
willing to supply carriages for the baggage , the King's
allowance being but ninepence a mile per ton : that of the

1 66 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

county, one shilling in the West Riding, and fifteenpence
in the North Riding. Metcalf having two waggons, was
desirous to try this new business ; and to make sure of the
job, got the soldiers to press his two carriages, which were
accordingly loaded, and he attended them to Durham him-
self. Previous to loading, however, the country people,
who knew the advantage of carrying for the army, and who
had kept back in hopes of an advance in the price, came
forward with their waggons in opposition to Metcalf;
but they were now too late— Metcalf had secured the
job.

On arriving at Durham, he met Bland's dragoons on
their march from the North to York ; they loaded his
waggons again for Northallerton, and would willingly have
engaged them to York ; but this he was obliged to de-
cline, having promised to bring twenty-three wool-packs to
Knaresborough. He was just six days in performing this
journey ; and cleared, with eight horses and the one he
rode, as much as £20.

Some horses belonging to the Queen's Bays, stationed at
Durham, were to be sold, and Metcalf, hearing of the sale,
set off from Knaresborough only the day before, and arrived
there in time. Amongst the horses to be sold was a grey
one, belonging to one of the drums. The man who had
the charge of him not having been sufficiently careful in
trimming him, had burnt him severely, which caused a
swelling. Had his careless conduct been known to his
superiors he would have been punished for it ; upon that
account the matter was hushed up. Metcalf, however, having
been apprised of the circumstances from a farrier whom
he had got to know, determined to purchase him, judging
that the horse would be sold cheap. He was not mistaken

Blind Jack of Knaresborough. 1 6 7

He bought him for very little, and with a bit of care
realised a good profit out of him shortly afterwards.

In the year 1754 Metcalf commenced a new business.
He set up a stage-coach between York and Knaresborough,
and conducted it himself, twice a week in the summer
season, and once in the winter; and this business, together
with the occasional conveyance of army baggage, employed
him until his first contract for making roads, which suiting
him better, he disposed of his draught and interest in the
road.

An Act of Parliament having been obtained to make a
turnpike from Harrogate to Boroughbridge, a person of the
name of Ostler, of Farnham, two miles from Knares-
borough, was appointed surveyor. Metcalf being in
company with him, agreed to make about three miles of
it, between Minskip and Ferrensby. The materials were
to be procured from one gravel-pit for the whole length.
He therefore provided deal boards and erected a temporary
house at the pit, took twelve horses to the place, fixed racks
and mangers, and hired a house for his men at Minskip,
distant about three-quarters of a mile. He often walked
from Knaresborough in the morning, with four or five
stone-weight of meat on his shoulders, and joined his men
by six o'clock. Ly his attention and diligence he com-
pleted the work much sooner than was expected, to the
entire satisfaction of the surveyor and trustees.

During his leisure hours he studied measurement in a
way of his own, and when certain of the girth and length
of any piece of timber, he was able to reduce its true
contents to feet and inches, and would bring the dimen-
sions of any building into yards and feet.

About the time that this road was finished the building

1 68 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

of a bridge was advertised to be contracted for at Borough-
bridge, and a number of gentlemen met there for that
purpose at the Crown Inn. Metcalf, amongst others, went
also. The masons varied considerably in their estimates.
Ostler, the surveyor of the roads, was appointed to survey
the bridge, and Metcalf told him that he wished to under-
take it, though he had never done anything of the kind
before.

On this the surveyor acquainted the gentlemen with what
Metcalf proposed ; when he was sent for and asked what
he knew about a bridge. He told them that he could
readily describe it, if they would take the trouble of writing
down his plan, which was as follows : — " The span of the
arch 1 8 feet, being a semicircle, makes 27 ; the arch-stones-
must be a foot deep, which, if multiplied by 27, will be
4S6 ; and the basis will be 72 feet more. For the arch, it
will require good backing ; for which purpose there are
proper stones in the old Roman wall at Aldborough, which
may be brought, if you please to give directions to that
effect." The gentlemen were surprised at his readiness,,
and agreed with him for building the bridge. The persons
who had given in their estimates were much offended ; and
as the stone was to be procured from Renton, a sale quarry
belonging to one of the masons who was there, he was
unwilling to sell any to Metcalf; upon which he went to
Farnham, and found good stones which the lime-burners
had left (being too strong for their purpose), got them
dressed at the place for a trifle, conveyed them to Borough-
bridge, and having men to take them off the carts, set
them, and completed the arch in one day.

Soon after, there was a mile and a half of turnpike road
to be made between Knaresborough Bridge and Harrogate,

Blind Jack of Knaresborongh. 1 69

for which Metcalf also agreed. Going one day over a
place covered with grass, he told his men that he thought
it different from the ground adjoining, and would have
• them try for stone or gravel, which they immediately did,
; and found an old causeway, supposed to have been made
I in the time of the Romans, which afforded many materials
for the new road. Between the forest lane-head and
Knaresborough Bridge there was a bog in a low piece of
ground. The surveyor thought it impossible to make a
road over it, but Metcalf assured him he could accomplish
it. The other then told him that if so he should be paid
as if he had carried the road round the bog. Jack set
about it, cast the road up, and covered it with whin
and ling, and made it as good as any part he had under-
taken. He received for his contract about ^400. He
afterwards contracted for making five miles of road be-
tween Harrogate and Harewood Bridge, and received for
it ;£i2oo. For a mile and a half through part of Chapel-
town to Leeds, and for lengthening the arch of Sheepscar
Bridge, he received ^400.

The following are some of his other contracts : — Four
miles of the road between Skipton and Colne, and two
miles on the Burnley Ro.ul. Two miles of the road through
Broughton to MartOD, and two miles more through
Addingham and over part of Romalds Moor, for all which
he received ,£1350. Four miles between Mill Bridge and
Halifax, and five miles between Wakefield and Chickingley
Beck, near Dewsbury ; and received for the same jQ\zoo.
Three miles and a half between Hag Bridge and Pontefraet,
and one mile and a half on the Doncaster Road, from
Crafton, through Foldby. For the road from Wakefield to
Pontefraet, Doncaster, and Halifax, he received ^6400.

170 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

From Blackmoor foot to Marsden, and from thence to
Standish foot; also from Lupset Gate through Horbury;
and also three miles from Standish to Thurton Clough;
from Sir John Kaye's seat to Huddersfield ; and thence to
Longroyd Bridge toll-bar, in the course of which were
several bridges, the whole distance about twenty-one miles,
for which he received ^"4500.

In the building of bridges, where the foundations were
bad, he laid on a sufficient thickness of ling (where it could
be got) otherwise straw ; he next laid planks five inches
thick, with square mortices cut through, and driving in a
number of piles, made the foundations secure. He then
laid springs for the arches upon the planks, which caused
all to settle regularly. And though he built many arches of
different sizes, none ever fell. He also undertook to
build houses, amongst which was one belonging to Mr.
Marmaduke Hebden, near Huddersfield, nine yards wide,
twenty-three long, and twenty-one feet from the foundation
to the square of the building, with twenty chimneys.

Metcalf having now made up his mind to follow
building and road-making, finding it remunerative, con-
tracted for and executed at various times the following
roads : —

Betwixt Chapel-le-Frith and Macclesfield, eight miles.
Betwixt Huddersfield and Wakefield ten miles, for which he
received ^250. From Huddersfield to High Moor, in the
road to Manchester, including a bridge at Marsden of
twelve yards span, in all about ten miles, for which he
received ^3500. From Docklane-head to Ashton-under-
Line, and part of the road from Ashton to Stockport, and
part of the road from Stockport to Mortram-Longdale,
about sixteen miles, for which he received ^3 2 00. From

Blind Jack of Knaresborough. i 7 r

Randal-Calbred, in the road from Chapel-le-Frith to
Macclesfield, including several bridges, for which he
received ^2000. From Congleton to the Red Bull, on
the edge of Staffordshire, including drains, arches, walls,
&C, six miles, for which he received ^3500. For Sir
George Warren, at Poynton, in Cheshire, about five miles
of road in his own park, and draining a large quantity of
land, for which he received ^1000. Four miles of road
between Whaleyand Buxton, for which he received ^"2500.
Two miles over the High Flat, near Pennystone, in the
road betwixt Huddersfield and Sheffield, ^340. For
eight miles of road betwixt Huddersfield and Halifax,
£2-] 00. From Bury to Blackburn, in Lancashire, and
another branch from the said road to Accrington, the work
of two summers, ^3500. For part of the road between
Knaresborough and Wetherby, £600. For that part of
the road which leads through Ribstone and Kirk-Deighton,
till it joins the great north road leading from Borough-
bridge to Wetherby, and building two toll-houses, about

About the year 17S1 Metcalf, hearing how beneficial the
cotton business was to all that were engaged in it, resolved
to have a share in that also ; he accordingly purchased the
necessary machinery, but the scheme failed, as a time came
when no yarn could be sold without loss ; therefore he gave
up that business. In 17S9 he contracted for making
several pieces of road in Lancashire, between Bury and
Heslington, and another part from Heslington to Accring-
ton ; and also a branch from that to Blackburn, the work
of two summers, for which he received ^3500. In 1791
he returned into Yorkshire, and began to speculate in
buying and selling hay, measuring the stacks with his arms,

172 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

and having learnt the height, he could soon tell the number
of square yards contained in the whole.

At Christmas, 1794, he revisited Thornville Royal, where
he had spent so many visits in his young days ; he then
went to Middlethorpe, where he was kindly received by the
squire, Mr. Barlow.

Having gone to York in the first days of 1795, ne set
out on January 9th to walk to Green-Hammerton, on his
way to Thornville Royal, and accomplished the distance,
which was ten miles, in three hours and a half. He slept
that night at Thornville Royal, and next day walked to
Knaresborough, January 10th, the birthday of Sir Thomas
Slingsby's eldest son, which was kept with great rejoicings.

Thence he went to Spofforth, where he resided with his
daughter, after the death of his wife in 1778. There he
died on the 27th April, 1810, in the full possession of his
faculties, aged ninety-three. He was buried in Spofforth
churchyard.

At the time of his death his descendants were four
children, twenty grandchildren, and ninety great and great-
great grandchildren.

uPeg Pennyworth"

17.

«■ PEG PENNYWORTH."

jARGARET WHARTON, an unmarried lady
of great wealth and ancient family, was one of
the Yorkshire oddities of last century.

She belonged to the family of the Whartons
of Skelton Castle, in Cleveland, and possessed a fortune of
£2 00,000, of which, with rare liberality, she made her
r.ephew a present of ^100,000. Her charities were liberal,
but always private, and if she heard that a recipient of
her bounty had disclosed the good deed, that person never
received another penny from her.

She was a short, stout lady, dressed fashionably, had an
aristocratic air, and hked to be respected as rich and of
good family.

For some time she resided at York, and visited Scar-
borough in the season, where she was well known on
account of her eccentricities. She used to send for "a
pennyworth of strawberries " or " a pennyworth of cream "
at a time, and pay down her penny, as she had an aversion
to tradesmen's bills. From this she obtained the name of
" Peg Pennyworth," which stuck to her through life. An
incident occurred at Scarborough in which she displayed
her aversion to public charities. She was solicited by some

1 74 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

gentlemen to give a subscription to a charity on behalf
of which they were making a collection. Peg pulled out
her purse with an ominous frown, and turned out its con-
tents into her palm. This was in or about 1774, when light
guineas were in disgrace. She deliberately selected from
among the coins the lightest guinea she could find, and
handed it to the gentlemen.

The celebrated Foote laid hold of this incident, and drew
her character in a farce, under the name of " Peg Penny-
worth." When informed of this she exclaimed, with a
smile, " I will see it acted, as I live." She did, and
expressed her satisfaction that the character in the play did
her justice.

She frequently catered for herself, making her own
purchases, and taking them home in her carriage. Once,
having purchased some eels, she put them in her pocket*
entered her coach, and called on a lady friend and invited
her to come out with her for an airing.

The warmth of Peg's pocket revived the seemingly dead
eels, and they began to wriggle out to enjoy a little fresh
air. The lady who was sitting beside Peg, happening to
look down, saw what she thought was a serpent just
writhing into her lap, and several hideous heads breaking
out of the side of Mistress Margaret Wharton. She uttered
an awful shriek, bounded to her feet, pulled the checkstring,
and cried, " Madam ! madam ! you are swarming with
adders ! Coachman, stop ! Let me out ! let me out ! "

Mistress Wharton coolly looked at the eels, now escaping
rapidly from her pocket, gathered them up, and shoved
them into her reticule, saying, " I protest, madam, it is
only my eels come to life. Sit you down again, and don't
be frightened."

"Peg Pennyworth. " 175

One day at Scarborough she had ordered a large meat-
pie to be baked for dinner. It was a very large one — to
serve for herself, some visitors, and all the servants. When
it was made she ordered the footman to take it to the
bakehouse, but he declined, saying that it was not his
place, neither did it comport with his dignity, to be seen
in Scarborough stalking through the streets in plush and
tags, bearing a huge meat-pie.

Mistress Margaret then ordered the coachman to take it,
but he declined.

" Bring out the carriage, then ! " said Peg Pennyworth.
The horses were harnessed ; the coachman put on his
powdered wig and mounted the box ; the footman took
his place behind ; and Mistress Margaret Wharton, bearing
the meat-pie, sat in state in the carriage. " Drive to the
bakehouse."

So the coachman whipped his horses, and the meat-pie
was carried thus to the baker's. An hour or two later the
carriage was ordered out again, the coachman remounted
the box, the footman took his stand behind, and the lady
drove to the bakehouse to fetch her pie, which she carried
back thus to her house. " Now," said she to the coach-
man, "you have kept your place, which is to drive; and
you," turning to the footman, " have kept yours, which is to
wait ; and now we shall all have some of the pie."

Mistress Wharton had a visiting acquaintance with a lady,
a clergyman's wife, in York. On the death of her husband,
the widow retired with her four daughters to Thirsk, and
she invited Peg Pennyworth to visit her.

To her dismay, one day up drove Mistress Wharton in
her carriage, with coachman, footman, and lady's maid.
The widow, whose means were not very ample, endured

176 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

having all these people quartered on her for a month, but
at the expiration of that time she was obliged to hint to
the nephew of her guest that "the pressure on her means
was rather greater than she could bear."

" Let my aunt have her way," said Mr. Wharton. " I will
pay you two hundred a year during her life, and one
hundred during your own, should you survive her."

Mistress Margaret Wharton never left the house of the
widow, but died there after some years, in the one hundred
and third year of her age, in 1791. The annuity was
regularly paid to the widow lady to the day of her death.

Peter Barker, the Blind Joiner. 1 ; 7

PETER BARKER,

THE BLIND JOINER OF HAMPSWAITE.

ETER BARKER was born on July 10th, 1808.
At the age of four he was deprived of sight by
an inflammation of the eyes, and ever after-
wards he was —

" dark, amid the blaze of noon,
Irrevocerably dark ; total eclipse,
Without all hope of day."

The loss of his sight caused Peter from an early age to
cultivate music, and he became a skilful performer on the
violin ; and as he grew up to manhood he frequented the
village feasts, dances, and merry-makings all round the
country, as a performer on that instrument. This led him
into habits of intemperance. But he had a strong will, a
tender conscience, and seeing that he was sinking in his
own respect and in that of others, he determined to
abandon his musical profession.

But he must earn his livelihood ; and he determined
to become a joiner. He fell to work to make a chair,
succeeded in the first attempt, and for the rest of his
life followed carpentering as his profession. He handled
his tools with all the dexterity of a practised workman ; his
shop was always in order, the tools in their proper position

N

178 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

in the rack, or in his hands. The only peculiarity about
his instruments was in the foot-rule he used for making
his measurements, the lines on which were marked by
small pins, of different numbers, to indicate the different feet
on the rule. The idea of having his rule thus marked was
suggested by a lady who interested herself in his welfare.
She wrote to a manufacturer of carpenters' rules in London,,
to inquire if such a thing could be had as a rule with raised
lines and figures ; the answer was that no such rules were
made. Failing to procure an article of this kind, she
suggested the making of the measurements on it with pins -r
and this was carried- into effect.

The articles made by this blind workman were firm and
substantial, the joints even and close, and the polish
smooth. It is said that a cabinet-maker at Leeds, having
heard reports of the blind joiner's skill, procured a chair he
had made, and showed it to the workmen in his shop,,
asking them their opinion of the chair. After examining it,
they said that they thought there was nothing particular
about the chair, only it was a thoroughly well-made,
serviceable one. "So it is," said the master; "but — will
you believe it ? — the man who made it never saw it : he
was blind from a child." Their indifference was at once
turned into amazement.

The writer of a memoir of Peter Barker* says :—
" We have frequently seen him at work, and were it not
from the more frequent handling of the articles operated
on, and the nearness of his fingers to the edge of the chisel
or saw, there was nothing apparently to distinguish his
manner from that of an ordinary workman. In 1S6S we
found him at work in the church, repairing the seats, and
* Published by T. Thorpe, Pately Bridge, 1S73.

Peter Barker, the Blind Joiner. i 79

watched him for some time before he was conscious of the
presence of any one. He showed us what he had done —
lowered the fronts of both the pulpit and reading-desk, the
one twenty inches, the other a foot; brought forward a pew
some three feet, and refronted it with panels of old carved
oak, which he asserted was very difficult to work over
again; showed us a piece of carving which he, in conjunc-
tion with the churchwarden, had only discovered the day
before, and which was upwards of 200 years old; led the
way into the belfry, giving a word of advice to be careful in
ascending the old rickety stairs ; showed the clock, which
he had under his care to keep clean and in going order.
At this point, while seated on a bench, he gave us a
narrative of his first acquaintance with the clock, which we
give in his own words as nearly as we can remember : — *
"You see, our clock is yan o' these aud fashon'd hand-
made 'uns, not made exact and true by machinery as they
are now, but ivvery wheel cut an' filed by hand. Aud
Snow, a notified clock-makker 'at lived up aboon abit here,
had the managing of her a Iang time, at so much a year.
He used to come just at t' time when his year was up, give
t' aud clock a fether full o' oil, tak his brass, and there was
no mair on him till t' next year. At last she gat as
she wadn't gang at all ; she wad naither turn pointers nor
strike. T foaks i* t' toon were sadly dissatisfied ; they
neither knew when to get up nor gang to bed, as they had
done afore, when t' clock was all reet. T' church-maister sent
for t' clock-maker, and he come an' come ageean, an' fizzled
an' faff d aboot her, but nivver did her a farthing's worth
o' good. At last he was forced to give her up as a bad job;

* The strong provincial dialect is somewhat modified in thi
would be unintelligible except to Yorkshire readers.

i So Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

she was fairly worn out, an' she wad nivver be no
better till she was mended with a new un ; and that's aboon
twenty year sin, an' t' aud clock's here yet. Then Johnny
Gill, another clever fellow, took her under hands, and she
lick'd him as fairly as she'd deean aud Snow. I was i' t'
church by mysel one day, I hardly know what aboot, when
it com' into my heead 'at I would try my hand at her ; I
niwer had deean nowt o' t' sort ; but if ye nivver try, ye
niwer can dea (do) nowt. So t' first thing I did was to
give her a reet good feelin' all ower her; an' then, heving
settled all her parts fairly i' my mind, I fell to work and
took her to pieces, bit by bit, got all t' works out of her,
and cleaned her all ower reet soundly, particularly t' pivots,
and then gav 'em all a sup o' nice oil; then I put her
together ageean ; efter a few trials I got her all reet, got her
started — she strake an' kept time like a good un. Efter I
finish'd I com' doon, an' into th' church garth, and wha did
I meet there but Mr. Shann, our vicar at that time, and
just as I was meeting him t' clock strake ageean. ' What's
that, Peter ? ' he says. I says, ' It's t' clock, sir ! ' He
says ageean, ' What does this mean, Peter ? ' I says, ' It
meeans t' time o' day when t' clock strikes.' He began o'
laughing, and said, ' You're a queer fellow, Peter. I mean
who made the clock strike ? ' ' Oh,' I says, ' I've deean that
mysel, sir. I've been at her a goodish bit to-day, an' I
think I've gotten her put all reet at last.' 'Well done,
Peter, you're a clever fellow,' he says. ' But you shan't do
all this for nothing. I shall let the churchwardens know
what you have done. You must have some reward.'
' Yarry weel, sir,' I says, and so we parted. And he was
as good as his word. When t' churchmaisters met, he
tell'd 'em all aboot it, and they allow'd me four shillings

Peter Barker, the Blind Joiner. 1 8 1

for my job; and I was to have ten shillings a year for
keeping her ganning ivvery year efter."

In the month of July, 1S65, the clock did not strike
correctly. As Peter told the tale himself: — "I was i' t'
shop when I heard her at it, two or three times. I stood
it as lang as I could ; at last I banged doon my teeals
(tools), and says to mysel', ' I'll mak thee either strake reet,
or I'll mak thee as that thou'll nivver strike ageean.'
Away I went, spent an hour over her, gat her reet, and
she's kept reet ever sin'.''

His biographer says : — " Once on a visit to Peter's
cottage, we found a window had been recently inserted,
according to his statement, to make the fireside more
lightsome — Peter having been mason, joiner, and glazier
himself. In short, he appeared to be able to do any kind
of work that he had the desire or the will to do. He was
an expert in the art of netting — fabricating articles in that
line from the common cabbage-net to the curtains which
adorn the windows of the stately drawing-room. As a
vocalist he sang bass in the church on Sundays. He was
also one of the bell-ringers ; and during the winter months
the curfew bell is rung at Hampswaite at eight o'clock
every evening. When it was Peter's turn to ring he took
a lighted lanthorn with him — not for the purpose of seeing
others, but that others might see him.

"He always fattened a pig in the winter season, and had
a method of measurement of his own for ascertaining how
much weight the pig had gained every week ; and to such
measurement and calculation the pig was weekly subjected
until he attained the proper bulk and weight. 1'
generally bought his pig himself, and for that purpose
attended the market at Knaresborough, where the ban

1 82 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

was cause of much amusement to the onlookers. When
the pig was pointed out which was thought likely, the seller
had to seize the same, and hold it still as possible, until
Peter had felt it over and ascertained its points, and passed
his judgment on its feeding qualities."

Peter learned to read with his fingers in 1853, and was
given a New Testament with embossed letters.

He was very fond of children, and would play tunes to
them on his fiddle at his shop-door of a summer evening,
whilst they danced and sang. He had made this fiddle
himself, as well as the case in which he kept it.

So delicate was Peter's touch that he was able to tell the
hour on a watch by opening the case and running his
fingers lightly over the face.

Peter in his youth had a romantic courtship, and married
a wife. She presented him with a son, born in 1S46 ; and
died on June 3rd, 1862. The boy, who was his father's
constant companion and delight, died the following year,
on Jan. 19th, 1863, leaving the poor blind joiner's house
completely desolate.

After a few weeks' illness, Peter died in his cottage, near
the churchyard gate, on February iSth, 1S73, at the age of
sixty.

*25i

The White House.

183

THE WHITE HOUSE.

|N the road between Raskelfe and Easingwold
stood in 1623, and stands still, a lonely inn
called " The White House."

The wide brown heathery moor called Pill-
Moor then extended to the roots of the Hambledon hills ;
■on a slight rising ground above the marshes stood here and
theie a farm or cottage; and here and there a portion of
the soil had been enclosed. To this day a large portion
cf the moor remains untilled, and is a favourite resort
of botanists, who find there several varieties of gentian
and orchis, rare elsewhere. Originally it stretched from
Borough Bridge to the Hambledons, intersected by the
streams flowing into the Ouse, patched here and there with
pools of water.

In the White House lived a man called Ralph Raynard,
and his sister. Ralph paid his addresses to a fine-looking
young woman, dark-eyed, dark-haired, who lived at Thorn-
ton Bridge, at the Red House, where the road from
Brafferton or Tollerton crossed the Ouse to Topcliffe and
Ripon. The old house, lonely, surrounded by trees, with
traces of a moat or pond, in spring full of yellow flags,
stands to this day almost deserted. The girl was poor,
and a good match was of the first advantage to her ; she

184 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

was at the time in service at the Red House, and thither
Ralph came to visit her.

But, for some cause unknown, they quarrelled, an
estrangement ensued, and Ralph came no more across
Thornton Bridge.

At the same time a yeoman named Fletcher, living at
Moor House, in the parish of Raskelfe, had cast his eyes on
the comely young woman, and he took advantage of the
rupture between the lovers to step in and offer his hand to
the damsel. He was at once accepted, in a fit of resent-
ment against Ralph Raynard, and the marriage rapidly
followed; so that she soon found herself the wife of a man
whom she did not love, and some miles nearer the White
House, where lived Ralph, whom she did love, than when
she had resided at Thornton Bridge.

The resentment she had felt died away ; an explanation
followed when too late. There was a scene — despair on
both sides, and resentment entertained by both Ralph
Raynard and Mrs. Fletcher against the unfortunate yeoman
who stood between them and perfect union and happiness.

On market-day, when Mrs. Fletcher ambled on her nag
into Easingwold, she invariably halted at the White House,
when the hostler, one Mark Dunn, a beetle-browed, un-
couth fellow from Huby, received and held her horse as
she dismounted and entered the inn. Ralph, the host, was
always there, and received Mrs. Fletcher with an affection
which dissatisfied his sister, a woman of sense, who saw
that this cherishing of an old passion could lead to no
good. When Mark Dunn disappeared for hours at a time,
she shrewdly suspected that he was sent on messages to
Raskelfe.

More than once she interfered and rebuked Ralph, her

The White House. i S

D

brother, warning him of the dangerous consequences of
thus encouraging the attachment of a woman now bound
to another man by the most sacred ties. With an oath
he bade her mind her own business, and not interfere with,
him.

Fletcher could not but be aware that his wife did not
love him ; whispers reached him that she met her old
sweetheart when he was from home ; that her nag was seen
standing an unreasonable time outside the door of the
White House. He caught Mark Dunn one evening
prowling in his orchard, and he fell on him with a
stick. The ungainly fellow howled with pain, and swore
revenge.

Fletcher became gloomy, neglected his affairs, and began
to fall into difficulties. He had been sincerely, passionately
attached to the dark-eyed, handsome girl he had brought
to his home. He had done his utmost to render her
happy, and now she was making his home miserable,
destroying the former serenity of his spirits.

He was obliged to go one day on business to Easing-
wold. He would not return till late. His wife knew it.
Something troubled his mind. A presentiment of evil
which he could not shake oft" hung over him, and he wrote
on a sheet of paper —

'• If I should be missing, or suddenly wanted be,
Mark Ralph Raynard, Mark Dunn, and mark my wife for me,"

directed it to his sister, and on reaching Easingwold,
posted it.

Xo sooner was he gone than Mrs. Fletcher mounted her
horse and rode to the White House. She asked to see
Raynard, and he walked by her side some way back to
Raskelfe. There they parted ; and Raynard was next

1 86 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

observed in close conversation with his hostler, Mark
Dunn.

It was May-Day. In the sweet spring evening Fletcher
was returning on foot from Easingwold, when he came to
Daunay Bridge, where at that time a road branched off
from the highway from the North to York, and traversing
the Lund, led to Raskelfe. As he crossed the bridge he
stood still for a moment, and looked up at the stars, just
appearing. Next moment Raynard and Dunn were upon
him ; they had sprung from behind the bridge, and he was
flung over it into the water. The stream is narrow and not
deep, so that, once recovered from the shock, he could have
easily crawled out. But the murderers leaped into the
water after him. Mrs. Fletcher, with a long sack over her
shoulder, ran out from the shadow of a bush where she
had been concealed, and they held the farmer under water,
the two men grasping his throat, his wife retaining his feet
in the sack, into which she thrust them, till his struggles
•ceased, and he was, or was supposed to be, dead.

The body was then thrust into the sack which Mrs.
Fletcher had brought for the purpose, and the three guilty
ones assisted in carrying or dragging the body along the
road towards the White House. They were alarmed once ;
the clatter of a horse's hoofs were heard, and they con-
cealed themselves by the road-side. The horseman passed,
they emerged from their place of hiding, and continued
their course.

As they drew near to the inn a streak of light from the
inn-door showed that it was open. They heard voices.
The horseman had called for something to drink, and it
was brought to him without his dismounting. Then Miss
Raynard was heard calling, " Ralph ! Ralph ! " She

The White House. 187

wondered, perhaps, at his long absence, or wanted him
for some purpose in the house.

No answer was returned. Raynard, Dunn, and Mrs.
Fletcher lifted the body over the low hedge into Raynard's
croft or garden, and buried it in a place where the ground
had been disturbed that day by his having stubbed up an
old root. They carefully covered the body with earth, and
Raynard sowed mustard-seed over the place.

It was thought prudent that Mrs. Fletcher and Raynard
should not meet after this.

People wondered what had become of Fletcher ; but
knowing that he was somewhat embarrassed in his circum-
stances, they readily accepted the statement of his wife
— that he had gone out of the way to avoid having a writ
served on him.

Thus matters stood till the 7th July, when Ralph
Raynard rode to Topcliffe fair. It was a bright sunny
day. He passed the Moor House, but did not stay there ;
crossed Thornton Bridge, went before the Red House,
where he had so often visited and spent such happy hours
with her now his accomplice in crime, along by Cundall to
Topcliffe.

He dismounted at the inn there — the Angel, an old-
fashioned house near the dilapidated market-cross. He
led his horse out of the yard into the stable. The
sun glared without j within it was dark. As he was
removing the bridle from his horse, suddenly he saw
standing before him the spirit of Fletcher, pale, with
a phosphoric light playing about him, pointing to
him, and saying, " O Ralph, Ralph ! repent. Ven-
geance is at hand ! " In an agony of horror he lied
out of the stable. In the daylight without he recovered

i SS Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

composure, and endeavoured to believe that he had been a
victim to delusion. He thought he must buy some present
for the woman, love for whom had led him to the com-
mission of murder. He went to one of the stalls to buy
some trinket — a chain of imitation coral beads. " How
does it look on the neck ? " he asked, extending it to the
keeper of the stall. Then he looked up and saw a ghastly
figure opposite — the dead man with the coral round his
neck, knotted under his ear, and his head on one side, the
eyes wide open, with a blaze in the eyes, and heard him
say: "How like you a red streak round the neck lik e
this ? I will put one round the throat of my wife ; and
you shall wear one too ! "

Sick and faint, he hastened back to the inn, and called
for beer. Towards evening he rode home. He saw
as he came towards the Carr, where there is a dense
clump of trees, a figure looking at him. It was de-
liberately getting out of a sack, and shaking and wring-
ing water out of its clothes. With a scream of terror
Raynard plunged his spurs into the horse's flanks, and
galloped past Cundall, home. As he crossed Thornton
Bridge he closed his eyes, but when he opened them again
he saw the well-known figure of the dead man walking before
him so fast that his horse could not catch him up. He
trailed the sack after him, and left a luminous track on the
road. When it reached a point at a little distance from
the White House — the very spot where Raynard, Mrs.
Fletcher, and Mark Dunn had turned aside with the body
— the spectre strode across the heather, leaped the low
hedge, and melted, apparently, into the ground, where
now a rich, green crop of mustard was growing.

" You're back earlier than I thought," said the sister of

The White House. 189

Ralph Raynard. " I reckon thou'st not been stopping this
time at Moor House ? "

Raynard said nothing, except " I'm ill."

" Ah," said his sister, " I've gotten thee a nice bit o'
supper ready, with a beautiful dish o' salad."

And she laid the cloth, and placed upon it a plate of
fresh-cut mustard 1

Raynard's face grew rigid and white.

"What is the matter? " asked his sister.

Opposite him, on the settle, sat the dead man, pointing
to the salad.

Ralph sprang up, drew his sister away, and told her all.

She, poor woman, horror-struck, ran off at once to Sir
William Sheffield, a justice of peace, residing at Raskelfe
Park. The three guilty parties were apprehended and
taken to York, where, on July 28th, 1623, all three were
hung.

When they had been cut down, the bodies were removed
and conveyed in a waggon to the White House, the hang-
man seated by the driver in front. There is a little rise
not far from the inn, commanding the spot where the
murder was committed, and the green mustard-bed where
the body of Fletcher had been hidden, but which had
been removed and buried in Raskelfe churchyard. On
this hill a gibbet had been erected, and there the three
bodies were hung, with their faces towards the dismal flat
and the gurgling stream where the murdered man had been
drowned. There they hung, blown about by the autumn
storms, screeched over by the ravens and magpies, baked by
the summer sun, their bare scalps capped with cakes of
snow in the cold winter, till they dropped upon the ground,
and then the bones were buried and the gallows cut down.

1 90 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

About eighty years ago the plough was drawn over
Gallows Hill, when a quantity of bones were unearthed by
the share. They were the bones of Raynard, Dunn, and
Mrs. Fletcher. The hill to this day bears its ill-omened
name, and people mutter about Raskelfe the doggerel
lines —

" A wooden church, a wooden steeple,
Rascally church, and rascally* people."

* Raskelfe is commonly called RascalL

Jemmy Hirst ; an Oddity. 191

JEMMY HIRST;

AN ODDITY.*

[JEMMY was born at Rawclifte, in the West
Riding, on October 12th, 173S. His father
was a respectable substantial farmer, without
great brilliancy of parts, but with the usual
Yorkshire shrewdness.

The boy soon began to exhibit originality ; mischievous-
ness was mistaken by a fond mother for genius, and he
was destined for the Church. He was sent accordingly to
a boarding-school, to a clergyman, at the age of eight, to
acquire the rudiments of the necessary education.

But at school Jemmy's genius took an altogether perverse
turn. Pie was always first in the playground and last in
class ; a leader in mischief, a laggard in study. Finding his
master's spectacles on the desk one day, Jemmy unscrewed
them, and removed the glasses. When the Principal came
in, he gravely took up the spectacles and put them on.
Finding them dim, he removed them. When he
seen demurely to wipe where the glasses had been, and
then, with his fingers through the rims, to hold them up to
his eyes to see what was the matter, the whole school burst

* "The Life ami Adventures of J. Hirst." Ilepworth, Knot-
tingley (n.d.) Another Life published at Pontefiract

ig2 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

out laughing. The pedagogue demanded the name of the
culprit. Jemmy had not the honesty or courage to pro-
claim himself the author of the trick, and the whole school
was whipped accordingly. On the morning of the ist
April, early, a big boy in his dormitory sent Jemmy to the
master, expecting that he would knock at his bedroom
door, wake him, and get a thrashing for his pains. Jemmy
turned out of bed and went outside the door, waited a
minute, and then came into the dormitory again. "Ah!
Tom, thou'rt in for it. Thou mun go at once to Lovell for
having made an April fool of him and me." The boy,
believing this, went to the master's door, knocked him up,
and got well thrashed for his pains. " You will know in
future what is meant by the biter being bit," said Jemmy,
when the boy returned, crying. "There's an old fable about
the viper biting the file and breaking his teeth. Perhaps
you can understand the moral of it now."

The Principal kept an old sow. Jemmy used to get on
her back, tie a piece of twine — " band " a Yorkshire boy
would call it — to the ring in her snout, run a nail through
the heel of his boot to act as spur, and gallop the old sow
round the yard. This was often performed with impunity,
but not always. The master saw him from his window one
morning as he was shaving, and rushed down with a horse-
whip in his hand. Jemmy was careering joyously round
and round the yard, when a crack of the lash across his
back dislodged him. He was fed next day on bread and
water as a punishment.

One night Jemmy and some of his schoolmates got out
of the house with intent to rob an orchard. But one of the
clay scholars had overheard the boarders planning the raid,
and he informed the farmer whose orchard it was purposed

Jemmy Hirst ; an Oddity. 193

to rob, and he was on the look-out for the young rogues.
When they arrived he suffered one of them — it was Jemmy
— to climb an apple-tree without molestation, but then he
■rushed forth from his hiding-place and laid about him with
a carter's whip with hearty goodwill. The boys fled in all
directions, except Jemmy, who escaped further up the tree,
and there remained, unable, like a squirrel, to leap from
bough to bough, and so escape. The farmer went under
the tree and shouted to him, "Come down, you young
rascal ! I'll strap thee ! "

" Nay," answered Jemmy, " dost see any green in my
eye? It's like I should come down to get a whipping,
isn't it?" And he began leisurely to eat some of the
apples, and pelt the farmer with others. The man, highly
irate, began to climb the tree after him. Jem remained
composedly eating till the farmer was within reach of him,
and then he drew a cornet of pepper from his pocket and
dusted it into the eyes of his pursuer. The man, half-
blinded, desisted from his attempts to catch the boy, in his
efforts to clear his eyes, and Jemmy slipt past him down
the tree and escaped. Next day the farmer came to the
school to complain, and Jemmy received thirty strokes on
his back with the birch. " Ah ! " said Jemmy, " thou'st
made my back tingle, and I'll make thine smart." So he
got a darning-needle, and stuck it in the master's hair-
bottomed chair in such a way that when anyone sat down
the needle would protrude through the cushion, but would
recede on the person's rising again.

At school hour the master came in, and seated himself
in his chair with his usual gravity. But suddenly up he
bounded like a rocket; then turned and examined the
cushion, very red in the face. The cushion seemed all

o

1 94 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

right when he felt it with his hand, so he sat himself down
on it again, but this time much more leisurely. No sooner,,
however, was his weight on it than up came the needle
again, and with it up bounded the master.

u Please, sir," said Jemmy, affecting simplicity, " was
there a thorn in the seat ? If so, thou'd better run two or
three times round t' school yard ; I did so yesterday to work
t' birch buds out o' my flesh."

Jemmy had one day tied two cats together by their hind
legs and thrown them over a rail, when the master, who
had been watching him from an upper window, made
his appearance on the scene, horse-whip in hand, and
belaboured Jemmy severely. But little Hirst always-
retaliated in some way. The master used to walk up
and down in the evening in the yard behind the school.
He wore a foxy wig. Jemmy one evening went into the
study where Mr. Lovell kept his fishing tackle, for he was
fond of angling. The window was open ; Jemmy cast the
hook, as for a fish, and caught the little fox-coloured wig.
Then leaving the rod in the window, and the head of hair
dangling above the master's reach, he ran down into the
school. The Principal was therefore obliged to go upstairs
with bald head to his study to recover his wig. This
final act of insubordination was too much for Mr. Lovell —
it touched him in his tenderest point ; and he wrote to Mr.
Hirst to request him to remove the unmanageable boy
from his school.

He was fourteen years old when his father took him
away, and was little advanced in his learning. Every pros-
pect of his going into the Church was abandoned, but what
trade or profession he was qualified for was as yet unde-
cided. His father wanted to put him to school again, but

Jemmy Hirst ; cut Oddity. 195

Jemmy so steadily and doggedly persisted in his refusal to
go to another, that his indulgent father ceased to press it.
The boy showed no inclination for farming, and no per-
suasion of his father could induce him to take a farming
implement in his hands to work with. His chief pleasure
consisted in teaching pigs and calves to jump.

Mr. Hirst had a friend at Rawcliffe, a tanner, and this
friend persuaded Mr. Hirst to bind Jemmy apprentice
to him ; and as the boy showed no disinclination to the
trade, he was bound to the tanner for seven years.

The tanner had a daughter called Mary, a year younger
than Jemmy, and a tender friendship grew up between the
young people : Jemmy was softened and civilised by the
gentle influence of the girl ; he took willingly to the trade,
became settled, lost his mischievous propensities, and
promised to turn out a respectable member of society. An
incident occurred three years after he had entered the
tanner's house which tended to cement this attachment
closer. Mary went one Saturday to spend the day with an
aunt living at Barnsley. Jemmy ferried her over the river
in a boat belonging to the tanner, and promised to fetch
her in the evening. Accordingly, towards nightfall he
crossed the river, and made his boat fast to a stake,
and then walked to Barnsley to meet the young girl. Mary
met him with her usual smile, and tripped by his side
to the boat, but in stepping into it her foot slipped, and
she was swept down by the current. Jemmy instantly
leaped overboard, swam after her, overtook her before she
sank, and supporting her with one arm, succeeded in bring-
ing her ashore, where several persons who had witnessed
the accident were assembled to assist and receive her.

Mary's parents showed Jemmy much gratitude for his

196 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

courageous conduct in saving her life, and the girl clung to
him with intense affection \ whilst Jemmy, who seemed
to think he had acquired some right over her by his
having saved her life, was never happy unless he was
by her side. They were always together. She would steal
in to do her needlework in the place where he was engaged
in his trade, and when work was over they were together
walking in the lanes and fields.

But in the midst of this happiness a stroke fell on them
which for ever altered the tenor of Jemmy's life. Mary
fell ill with smallpox. The lad watched by her bedside
night and day, giving her medicine, making up her pillow,
tending her with agonised heart, utterly forgetful of him-
self, fearing no risk of infection, heedless of taking his
natural rest. The whole time of her illness he never slept,
and could scarcely be induced to leave her side for his
meals.

On the fifth day she died. The blow was more than
Jemmy could bear, and he was prostrated with brain-
fever.

That the poor boy had naturally very deep feelings is
evident from his having, some few years before, been laid
up with fever when his mother died. Hearing of her death
whilst he was at school, he became ill and was removed
home, where it was some time before he got over the
shock. Mary had taken the place in his vacant heart
formerly occupied by his mother, and with years the
strength of his feelings had increased. Consequently the
loss of Mary affected him even more than that of his
mother.

In his brain fever he raved incessantly of the poor dead
girl, and for several weeks his life was despaired of. By

ycmmy Hirst ; an Oddity. 197

degrees he slowly recovered ; but for some time it was
feared that his reason was gone. At the end of six or
seven months he was able to take a little exercise without
attendance; but, as will be seen, he never wholly re-
covered the blow, and his conduct thenceforth was so
eccentric that there can be no doubt his brain was affected.

He left the tanner's, abandoned the trade, and returned
to his father's house, where he idled, preying on his
fancies — one day in mad, exuberant spirits, the next over-
whelmed with despondency.

When aged five-and-twenty he took a fancy to a fine
bull-calf belonging to his father, which he called "Jupiter,"
and he began to train it to perform various tricks, and to
break it to bear the saddle. Jupiter bore the bridle
patiently enough, but plunged and tossed his horns when
the saddle was placed on his back. Jemmy next ventured
to mount his back. The young bull stood for a minute or
two, as his father said, " right down stagnated," and then
began to plunge and kick. Jemmy held fast, and Jupiter,
finding he could not thus dislodge his rider, set off, tearing
across the paddock towards a thick quickset hedge at the
bottom. But instead of leaping it, as Jemmy expected,
the bull ran against the fence, and precipitated his rider
over the hedge into the ditch on the further side.
Jemmy was unhurt, except for a few scratches and some rents
in his garments, and patches of mud, and picking himself
up, raced after Jupiter, nothing daunted, caught him, and
remounting him, mastered the beast. After this he rode
Jupiter daily, to the great amusement of people generally,
especially when he trotted into Snaith on market-days on
the back of the now docile bull.

On the death of his father he was left about ^"rooo.

1 98 Yorkshire Oddities a?id Incidents.

The farm he gave up, having no taste for agriculture, and
he took a house on the bank of the river, not far from his
old master's the tanner. The house had a few acres of land
attached to it, which he cultivated. The old housekeeper,
who had known him since a child, followed him to his new
home ; and in his stable was a stall for Jupiter.

He began to speculate in corn, flax, and potatoes, and
having considerable natural shrewdness underlying his
eccentric manners, he managed to realise enough to
support himself comfortably. He invested ^4000 in con-
sols, and had /"2000 lying at interest in a neighbouring
bank. He rode out with Lord Beaumont's foxhounds,
always on Jupiter, who was trained to jump as well as to
run. When he was seen coming up on the bull, Lord
Beaumont would turn to those with him at the meet and
say, " Well, gentlemen, if we are not destined to find game
to-day, we may be sure of sport."

His dress was as extraordinary as his mount, for he
wore a broad-brimmed hat of lambskin, fully nine feet
in circumference; his waistcoat was like Joseph's coat, of
many colours, made of patchwork; his breeches were of
listings of various colours, plaited together by his house-
keeper; and he wore yellow boots.

Though Jupiter could keep up with the foxhunters for a
few miles, his powers of endurance were not so great as
those of a horse, and he began to lag. Lord Beaumont
would pass Jemmy, and say, " Come, Mr. Hirst, you will
not be in at the death."

•' No ; but I shall at the dinner," was Jemmy's dry reply.
Lord Beaumont always took the hint, and invited him to
Carlton House to the hunting dinner.

His Lordship had a nephew visiting him on one occasion,

Jemmy Hirst; a?i Oddity. 199

a London exquisite, who thought he could amuse himself
at Jemmy's expense. One day at the meet this young man
said to Captain Bolton, " Let us quiz the old fellow." —
" By all means," answered the captain ; " but take care
that you do not get the worst of it."

When Jemmy came up, the young dandy, bowing to him
on his saddle, said, " I wish you a good morning, Joseph."

" My name isn't Joseph," answered Jemmy.

" Oh, I beg pardon. I mistook you by your coat and
waistcoat for that patriarch."

"Young man," said Jemmy, with perfect composure,
" 't win't do to judge by appearances. As I wor a-coming
up, says I to mysen, ' You're a gentleman.' When I gotten
a bit closer, says I, ' Nay, he's a dandy.' And now that I
heard thee voice, I knows thou'rt nowt but a jackass."

Jemmy was out with the hounds one day, along with
Lord Wharncliffe and Lord Beaumont and several of the
gentry of the neighbourhood. It was agreed amongst
them, unknown to Jemmy, that he should be let into a
scrape, if possible. Accordingly, after the start, Lord
Wharncliffe kept near him, and led him into a field sur-
rounded by a low, thick hedge — low enough for Jupiter to
clear without any trouble. On the other side of the hedge
in one place there was a drinking-pond for the cattle, five or
six feet deep, and full of water at the time. Lord Wharn-
cliffe kept close by Jemmy, and edged towards where the
pond was ; and then, putting spurs to his horse, he leaped
the fence, and Jemmy did the same to Jupiter, and clearing
the hedge in gallant style, came splashing into the water,
and rolled off Jupiter.

Lord Wharncliffe, when he saw Jemmy fairly in the
middle of the pond, turned back, and alighted, in order to

200 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

assist him out of the water. He found him half blinded
with mud and dirt, trying to scramble out, his clothes com-
pletely saturated. Jemmy managed to get out without
assistance, but it was some time before their united efforts
could extricate Jupiter.

Lord Beaumont offered Jemmy a change of clothes if he
would go to his house, but he would not hear of the
proposal, declaring he would see the day's sport over first j
and so they rode on together towards the rest of the party,
who were halted near Rawcliffe Wood. The fox had been
caught after a short run, and the huntsmen were already
beating after another.

Jemmy was greeted with a general titter. Captain
Bolton laughed out, and said, " Why, Jemmy, you've been
fishing, not hunting. What have you caught ? "

Jemmy looked hard at him — he was in no good humour
after his plunge — and said, " I reckon there's a flat fish I
know of that I'll catch some day."

"Why, Jemmy," said Lord Wharncliffe, laughing, "I
saw you catch a flounder."

" Ha ! ha ! " said the captain, " that's good ! You've
taken the shine out of your smart clothes to-day, Jemmy."

" A little water will give it back to them," answered
Hirst, sulkily.

" Jemmy," asked Captain Bolton, " did you think you
were drowning in the wash-tub? Did you say your
prayers in it ? "

u No," answered Jemmy, angrily, " I didn't ; but what
I was doing then was wishing I'd got a contemptible puppy
named Bolton in the pond with me, that I might kick his
breech."

Jemmy soon saw that he had been the victim of a planned

Jemmy Hirst ; an Oddity. 201

trick, and he determined to have his revenge. " I know
very well that Lord Wharncliffe led me o' purpose into t*
pond — I could see't by his manner; but I'll be even wi*
him."

He did not carry his purpose into execution at once, lest
he should arouse suspicion, but about a month afterwards,,
when in company with Lord Wham cli fife, he adroitly let
drop that he had seen a number of snipe on Rawcliffe
moor. This moor, now enclosed, was then a wide, open
common, full of marshy places, and with here and there
bogs covered with a little green moss, deep holes full of
peat water, not to be discerned except by those who were
well acquainted with them and the treacherousness of
their bright green covering. Lord Wharncliffe, Captain
Bolton, and some others, made up a party to shoot on the
common the following day, and met Jemmy, who under-
took to show them where the snipe most congregated.

They had a good day's sport, and when it fell dusk were
returning home, Jemmy beside Lord Wharncliffe, whom he
engaged in conversation, and Captain Bplton, with his gun
over his shoulder, immediately behind, joining in the con-
versation at intervals. Jemmy led the way direct to one
of these bog-holes, and on reaching the patch of moss
adroitly slipped on one side, and let Lord Wharncliffe and
Captain Bolton walk straight into it. The moss at once
yielded, and both sank to their breasts, and only kept their
heads above water by spreading out their arms on the moss.
In this condition they were perfectly helpless. To struggle
was to endanger their lives, for if the web of moss were
torn, they must infallibly sink beneath it.

Jemmy looked at them from the firm ground with a
malicious grin.

202 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

" Ha, ha ! captain," said he, laughing ; u art thou saying
thy prayers in yond wash-tub ? "

" Go to the devil ! " roared Captain Bolton.
" Nay," answered Jemmy, " thou'rt going to him as fast
as thou can, unless I pull thee out."

He held out his gun to Lord Wharncliffe, and assisted
him from the hole. " There, my Lord, now you have tit for
tat."

" Well, Mr. Hirst, I shall take care how I play with
•edged tools again. But I think it is too bad of you to
punish Captain Bolton as well as me."

" Why, my lord, he seemed to enjoy the horse-pond so
much that I thowt I'd let him taste the bog-pit. I've no
■doubt it gives him a deal o' pleasure."

" You old scarecrow ! " said the captain, angrily. " I've
a great mind to shoot you."

As he was helping Captain Bolton out with his gun he
^aid, dryly, " Sure it's a rare funny sight to see a queer sole
angling for a flat fish."

The immersed man little enjoyed the jokes at his
■expense, and he swore at Jemmy. " Ah ! " said that
oddity, " I don't think thou'rt a fish worth catching. Shall
I fling him in again, my lord ? He's nowt but what folks
■would call a little common-place."

Jemmy's old housekeeper died, and he supplied her
place by a strange creature, nearly as great an oddity as
himself, called Sarah, who for many years had kept house
for a rag-and-bone dealer at Howden, but who at his death
had returned to Rawcliffe, her native place, and was living
with her brother there when Jemmy engaged her.

Having made money by his speculations in corn and
potatoes, he resolved to retire from business. He invested

Jemmy Hirst ; an Oddity. 203

£\ooo in the funds and /~2ooo in the bank, and lived on
the interest. He was now forty-five years old.

An inactive life, however, did not suit him, so he turned
his mind to mechanics, and made several curious con-
trivances, some useful. He constructed a windmill to
thrash corn, but for this purpose it did not answer, though
it served for cutting up straw and chopping turnips.

His next contrivance was a carriage, the body of which
was made of wickenvork. It cost him a year's constant
application to finish it, and when completed it was calcu-
lated to cause a sensation. It was a huge palanquin, with a
top like an exaggerated Chinaman's hat, supported on four
iron rods, which were screwed into the shafts, the shafts
running the whole length of the carriage, and resting on
springs connected with the axle of the wheels. The sides
and back of the carriage were made of wickerwork matting.
The axle-case was faced with a clock dial with numbers,
and hands connected with a piece of ingenious mechanism,
afterwards perfected and patented by another person,
which told the distance the carriage had gone by measuring
the number of rotations made by the wheels.

Jemmy used for his hunting-suit a lambskin hat, a
rabbit-skin jacket, a waistcoat made of the skins of drakes'
necks with the feathers on, a pair of list breeches, yellow,
blue, black, and red, stockings of red and white worsted,
and yellow boots. His best room was furnished as
curiously as his person. Instead of pictures, the walls
were hung round with bits of old iron and coils of rope ;
in one place an old frying-pan, in another a rusty sword,
a piece of a chair, or a jug.

One evening, after a day's sport, he invited the party to
join him for a social evening, and the offer was eagerly

204 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

accepted, as every one was curious to see the interior of
his house. He gave them a very fair entertainment, and
amused them all the evening with his jokes. Immediately
over Lord Wharncliffe's head was suspended a pair of
horse's blinkers.

" Do you wear these ? " asked a Mr. Sadler who was-
present.

" No, sir, I do not ; I keep them for donkeys of a
peculiar make, who stand on their hind legs and ask
impertinent questions."

" What do you mean ? " asked the young man, redden-
ing. " Is that intended as a personal remark? "

" Draw your own inferences," answered Jemmy, knock-
ing the ashes out of his pipe.

The young man was so offended that he demanded satis-
faction for the insult. The company tried hard to pacify
him, but in vain. Jemmy then whispered in Lord Wharn-
cliffe's ear, and the latter immediately rose from the table,
and said, " Now, gentlemen, Mr. Hirst is quite willing to
give Mr. Sadler that satisfaction he desires. He has
requested my services as second. I have granted his wish.
As soon as Mr. Sadler can arrange with any gentleman to
act as his second, I shall be happy to arrange preliminaries
with him."

Mr. Sadler having chosen a second, the belligerents
were desired to leave the room for a few moments until
arrangements had been made for the duel.

As they left the room Lord Wharncliffe whispered in the
ear of one of the party, " Follow Mr. Sadler into the other
room, and take a bottle of wine with you ; get him to drink
as much as possible, and we will manage to make the affair
end in fun."

Jemmy Hirst ; an Oddity. 205

The gentleman did as desired. Then Lord Wharncliffe
and Jemmy, slipping in by another door, proceeded to
dress up a dummy that was in a closet hard by in Jemmy's
clothes.

Mr. Sadler was then told that all was ready, and he
returned into the room rather the worse for the liquor he
had drunk.

The pistol was put into his hand, and he was stationed
opposite the dummy, which with outstretched arm pointed
a pistol at him. The signal was given, and Mr. Sadler
fired ; then Jemmy, who was secreted in a closet hard by,
pulled a string, and the dummy fell with a heavy thud
upon the floor.

Mr. Sadler, who thought he had killed his antagonist,
was sobered instantly, and was filled with remorse and fear.
He rushed to the dead man and then towards the door,
then back to the corpse to see if life were quite extinct.
Then only, to his great relief, he found that the supposed
dead man was made of wood. The company burst into a
roar of laughter, and when he had sufficiently recovered from
his bewilderment he joined heartily in the mirth raised at
his own expense. Jemmy, emerging from his place of con-
cealment, apologised for the offence he had given, and both
shook hands. The carouse was renewed with fresh vigour,
and the sun had risen an hour before the party broke up
and its members unsteadily wended their way homewards.

Jemmy had bought a litter of pigs, and entertained the
idea of teaching them to act as setters in his shooting
expeditions, and therefore spent a considerable time every
day in training them. There were only two that he could
make anything of. But he never could induce them to
desist from grunting. It was impossible to make them

206 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

control their emotions sufficiently to keep quiet, and this
inveterate habit of course spoiled them as setters.

When the litter was about six months old, one of the
little pigs discovered his potato garden, and that by
putting its snout under the lowest bar of the gate it could
lift the gate so that the latch was disengaged from the
catch, and the gate swung open; so that the pig was
able to get in to the roots. Hirst saw the pig do this
several times, and he determined to stop this little game.
He therefore ground the blade of a scythe, and fixed it,.
with the sharp edge downwards, to the lower bar.

Shortly after, Jemmy saw the pig go to the gate, but in
lifting it off the hasp the scythe-blade cut the end of the
snout off. Jemmy burst out laughing, and called his old
housekeeper to see the fun ; but old Sarah was more com-
passionate than her master, and begged him to kill the pig
and put it out of its pain.

The carriage did not altogether satisfy Jemmy ; he there-
fore enlarged it to double its former size. He made it so
that, when necessary, he could have a bed in it; and
then he bought four Andalusian mules to draw it, and
with them he drove to Pontefract and Doncaster races,
which he attended every year, and created no small sensa-
tion along the roads and on the course. Bear and bull
baiting were favourite pastimes with him, as was also cock-
fighting. He kept two bulls and a bear for this purposft.
He used to call the bear Nicholas. It was a large savage
animal, and was always kept muzzled at home.

One morning, after it had been baited and had destroyed
four dogs, he took it something to eat, but it would not
touch the meat. " Ah ! thou'rt sulky ; then I mun gi'e
thee a taste o' t' whip." So saying, he struck the bear

Jemmy Hirst ; an Oddity. 207

over the muzzle with a hunting-whip he carried in his-
hand.

He had no sooner done so than the bear sprang upon
him, seized him, and began to hug him. Jemmy roared
for help, and a favourite dog rushed to his assistance and
seized Bruin by the ear. The bear let go Jemmy to
defend itself against the dog, and Jemmy, who had the
breath nearly squeezed out of him, managed to crawl
beyond the reach of the beast. The dog, seeing his master
safe, laid himself down by him, facing the bear, to guard
him from further attacks. Sarah found her master half-an-
hour after on the ground, unable to rise, and in great pain.
She raised him, assisted him to the house, and put him to
bed. He was confined for three weeks by the injuries he
had received.

A few weeks after his recovery he attended Pontefract
races in his carriage, drawn by four splendid mules, and
no one on the course could keep up with him when he put
the mules to their speed. Sir John Ramsden was in a
carriage drawn by two fine bays, of which he was not a
little proud, and he challenged Jemmy to a trial of speed
round the course. Off they started, Sir John taking the
lead for a short time, but Jemmy's mules, with their light
carriage, soon overtook Sir John's bays, and came in a
hundred yards before them. It was the most popular race
run that year on the Pontefract course.

He also constructed for himself a pair of wings, and by
an ingenious contrivance was able to spread the feathers.
But his attempt to fly from the mast-top of a boat in the
Humber failed. He fell into the water, and was drawn
out covered with mud, amidst the laughter of a crowd
wh»ch had assembled to witness his flight.

2o8 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

Jemmy's eccentricities had reached the ears of King
George III., and he expressed a desire to see him. Lord
Beaumont promised to do his best to persuade Hirst to
come to town, but at the same time he told the King that
if Jemmy took it into his head to decline the invitation, no
power on earth could move him.

Accordingly, Lord Beaumont wrote to Jemmy, stating
his Majesty's wish to see him, and urging him to come as
soon as possible. At the end of the week Lord Beaumont
received the following reply : —

" My Lord, — I have received thy letter stating his
Majesty's wish to see me. What does his Majesty wish to
see me for? I'm nothing related to him, and I owe him
nothing that I know of; so I can't conceive what he wants
with me. I suspect thou hast been telling him what queer
clothes I wear, and such like. Well, thou may tell his
Majesty that I am very busy just now training an otter to
fish ; but I'll contrive to come in the course of a month or
so, as I should like to see London."

Lord Beaumont showed Jemmy's letter to George III.,
who laughed when he read it, and said, " He seems to
think more of seeing London than of the honour of intro-
duction to royalty."

Jemmy spent a month in getting ready for his journey to
London. He had an entirely new suit made — a new lamb-
skin hat of the old dimensions, an otter-skin coat lined with
red flannel and turned up with scarlet cloth, a waistcoat
of the skins of drakes' necks, list breeches, red and white
striped stockings, and shoes with large silver buckles on
them. His carriage was repainted in the most lively
colours; and when all was ready he adjured Sarah to look

Jemmy Hirst ; an Oddity. 209

well after his favourites during his absence, and then drove
off at a slashing pace, drawn by his four Andalusians.

He created a sensation in every town and village he
passed through. People turned out of their shops and
houses to see him.

He put up at Doncaster at the King's Head Inn. The
hostler there exhibited Jemmy's carriage and mules at a
penny charge for admission, and realised something hand-
some thereby. The landlord also reaped a good harvest,
for the inn was crowded as long as Jemmy stayed there.

Jemmy reached London in three days. Lord Beaumont's
butler had been sent some time before to Tottenham, with
orders to wait there till Mr. Hirst made his appearance,
ami then to conduct him to his Lordship's town residence.

On Jemmy arriving at Tottenham, the butler informed
him of his lordship's orders, and then rode off before him
to show the way. The news spread through London, and
the streets were crowded, so that the carriage could hardly
make its way through the numbers of people whom the
report of the arrival of an eccentric Yorkshireman on a
visit to the King had drawn together. Jemmy, who was
immensely conceited, was greatly delighted with this
ovation. On reaching Lord Beaumont's house he was
welcomed by his Lordship with great cordiality; and
after lunch was driven out in Lord Beaumont's carriage
to see the sights of London. The King was informed of
Jemmy's arrival, and his Majesty expressed his wish that
Jemmy should be presented to him on the morrow. Lord
Beaumont vainly endeavoured to press on the strange

fellow the obligations of the Court ceremonial. " D

your forms and ceremonies ! " said he, impatiently. " If
the King don't like my ways, he must let it alone. I did

p

210 Yorkshire Oddities arid Incidents,

not seek his acquaintance — he must take me as I am. I
am a plain Yorkshireman, and if the King asks me a
question in a plain manner, I shall answer him in a plain
way, so that he or anybody else may understand. I can do
no more."

Lord Beaumont saw it was in vain to press him further
in the matter, and therefore left him to follow his own
course.

On the following morning, Jemmy set out in his wicker-
work carriage, in all the glory of drakes' necks, lambs'
wool, and otter skins turned up with scarlet, to visit the
King. But if the streets were crowded the day before,
on this occasion they were crammed, for the news had
spread that Jemmy was going in state to Court.

Lord Beaumont and a couple of Horse Guards accom-
panied the carriage, and with difficulty made a passage for
Jemmy ; and all along the streets the windows were filled
with heads.

When Jemmy alighted he was conducted by Lord Beau-
mont into an ante-chamber, to await the King's pleasure.
The Duke of Devonshire was also waiting there for an
audience with His Majesty, and on seeing this extra-
ordinary fellow enter, he burst into a fit of uncontrollable
laughter, and exclaimed, "'Pon my honour! what a scare-
crow. Why, Beaumont, where did you pick up that
ridiculous object ? Why have you brought such a merry-
andrew here?" Jemmy listened patiently for a moment
only to the Duke's exclamations and laughter, and then
seizing a tumbler of water that stood on the sideboard, he
dashed it in the Duke's face, exclaiming that the poor man
was in hysterics : he ran to the Duke, loosed his cravat,
pulled his nose, and shook him, pretending that he was

yemmy Hirst ; an Oddity. 2 1 1

using his best endeavours to bring him round from his
fit.

At that moment a messenger came to announce that His
Majesty wished to see Lord Beaumont and Mr. Hirst ; so
Jemmy was ushered into the royal presence. But instead
of kneeling and kissing the hand that was extended to him
in silence, he caught it and gave it a hearty shake, saying,
" Eh ! I'm glad to see thee such a plain owd chap. If thou
ever comes to Rawcliffe, step in and give me a visit. I can
give thee some rare good wine, or a sup of brandy and
water at ony time."

The Court was convulsed with laughter, and King
George III. could hardly contain himself. However, he
did not laugh out openly, but with courtesy maintained
his gravity, and asked Jemmy how he liked London. " I
like it weel enow," answered the oddity; "but I hadn't
ony idea afore yesterday and to-day there were sae mony
fools in it."

"Indeed!" said the King; "you pay us a very poor
compliment, Mr. Hirst. I did not know that we were
so badly off for wisdom in London. Perhaps that is an
article in such demand in Yorkshire that there is none to
spare for cockneys."

" Why, I'll tell thee how it were," said Jemmy. " When
I come into t' toun yesterday, and to thy house to-day, the
streets were full o' crowds of folks gathered as thick as
owt to see me, just a cause I happ'd to be dressed
different frae other folk ; and as I were waiting out yonder
i' t' fore-chamber, there were one 0' thy sarvants burst out
laughing at me ; but I reckon I spoiled his ruffled shirt for
him and punished his impertinence."

The King asked an explanation of Lord Beaumont,

212 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

and when he had heard what Jemmy had done to the Duke
of Devonshire, the King laughed heartily.

"Did you think to find London streets paved with
gold?" asked the King.

" Mebbe I did," answered Jemmy ; " but I've found out
I was mista'en. It's nowt but a mucky place, after all."

" A Yorkshire bite," said his Majesty.

" Aye, " answered Jemmy, " but I'm no a bite for
thee."

After some further conversation the King and his
attendants descended to look at Jemmy's carriage, and he
showed the clock for marking the distance he travelled;
the King was interested with this, and praised it as an
ingenious contrivance. Jemmy then showed him the place
he had made for the reception of his wine when he
travelled, but which was then empty. His Majesty imme-
diately ordered it to be filled with bottles from the royal
cellar.

As Jemmy was taking leave of the King he heard a
young nobleman say to another, " What an old fool that is
to wear such a hat; it is three times as large as is
necessary."

Jemmy turned sharply upon him and said: "I'll tell
thee what, young chap, folks don't always have things aboot
'em that's necessary, or his Majesty could dispense varry
weel wi' thee."

Lord Beaumont gave an entertainment at which Jemmy
was present, and danced with a niece of his host. He
danced very well, and was very popular ; all the evening he
was surrounded by a knot of young ladies and gentlemen
who did their best to draw him out. But it was dangerous
game, for those who attempted to play jokes on him

Jemmy Hirst; an Oddity. 213

generally got the worst of it. A young man present asked
Jemmy to procure him a suit of clothes like his own, as he
wanted them to attend a masquerade in. Jemmy asked
in what character he wished to appear.

M Oh, as a clown, of course," was the answer.

" Nay, then," said Jemmy, " thou'st nowt to do but go
just as thou art ; nobbudy '11 mistake thee for owt else."

" You have got your answer," said Lord Beaumont's
niece, laughing, " I hope you are satisfied with it."

During his stay in London, Jemmy visited the Court of
Chancery, and whilst Lord Beaumont was talking to a
friend, a barrister in wig and gown passing by stopped, and
staring at Jemmy, said, " Holloa, my man, what lunatic
asylum have you escaped from, eh ? "

"Bless me 1" exclaimed Jemmy, catching Lord Beau-
mont's arm j " sithen, yonder's an owd woman i' her night-
dress that's tummled out o' bed into an ink-pot, and is
crawling aboot. Let's get a mop and clean her."

After spending a week in the metropolis, he returned
home much delighted with his visit, which furnished him
with topics of conversation for a long time.

Sarah, his old housekeeper, falling ill, and being unable
to work, Jemmy engaged the services of a young woman
from Snaith to wait upon him, and she so accommodated
herself to Jemmy's whims, that she soon became a great
favourite with him. He would not, however, allow followers
about the house ; and as Mary had a sweetheart, the
meetings between them had to be carried on surreptitiously.
However, one day whilst Jemmy was hunting, his bull
tripped in jumping a fence, and fell, with Jemmy's leg
under him, which was broken with compound fracture.
This invalided him for some while. He had a block-

214 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

tackle fixed to a hook in the ceiling of the room, and a
sling made for his leg to rest in, fastened to the lower end,
and whenever he wished to alter the position of his leg, he
hoisted it up or let it down with the tackle.

During his illness the restraint of his observant eye was
off Mary, and the sweetheart had opportunities of visiting
her. One night, when Jemmy was somewhat recovered, he
was sitting in the corner of his garden enjoying a pipe of
tobacco, when he saw a man jump over the wall into the
garden and make his way to the kitchen window, then rap
with his fingers against the glass. Mary came out to him,
and they spent some time in conversation together, and
when they parted he promised to return and see her the
following night.

Jemmy heard every word that had been said, and he sat
chuckling to himself, and muttered, " So thou'lt come again
to-morrow night, wilt thou ? I'll learn thee to come
poaching on my preserves."

Next morning, very early, Jemmy rose and dug a hole,
four or five feet deep and six or seven feet long, just under
that part of the garden wall where the sweetheart had
clambered over the night before, and covered it all over
with thin lathes and brown paper, and then sprinkled
mould over it, so that it had all the appearance of solid
earth. A small stream of water ran through his garden
into the river. Jemmy cut a small grip from it to the hole
he had dug, and filled the hole with water ; then choked
the grip up and went into his house, laughing to himself at
what would probably happen that night.

Stationing himself at nightfall in the garden where he
could not be seen, he had not long to wait before he saw a
head rising above the wall, then the body of a man, and in

Jemmy Hirst ; an Oddity. 2 1 5

another moment the expectant lover had cleared the wall,
and dropped on the covering of the pitfall. The laths and
brown paper yielded to his weight, and he plunged up to
his neck in water. The unfortunate young man screamed
with fright, and Jemmy and Mary rushed to the spot.

"Holloa, my man! what's the matter? What art a'
doing i' yond water-pit ? Hast a' come to steal my apples
and pears ? "

Then turning to Mary, he asked if she knew him. The
poor girl hesitated, but at last confessed that the young
man was her sweetheart. " Well, then," said Jemmy,
"help him out and get him into t' house, and let us change
his clothes, for I reckon he's all over muck."

The young man was brought in dripping like a water-rat.

" Now, then," said Jemmy, " thou mun have a dry suit.
Which wilt a' have — a pair o' my list breeches and rabbit-
skin coat, or my old housekeeper's petticoats and gown ? "

The young man ungallantly chose the former, thinking if
he must be made ridiculous before the eyes of Mary, he
would be less so in male than female attire. Jemmy gave
him a glass of hot brandy-and-water, kept him talking by
the kitchen fire till his clothes were dried, and then dis-
missed him with permission to come to the house openly,
and visit Mary as often as he liked. The young fellow
became in time a great favourite with the old man, and
when he married Mary, Jemmy gave him £50 to start life
with.

Jemmy took it into his head to make himself a coffin,
for he said he was getting old, and did not know how soon
he might require one, and therefore it was best to be ready.
It took him a month to construct it. It had folding-doors
instead of a lid, and two panes of glass in each door ; and

2 1 6 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

he fitted the inside with shelves for a cupboard, saying that
he might as well turn it to some use whilst he was alive,
and then fixed it upright in the corner of his sitting-room.
Twelve months after, he had a second coffin made on the
same model, but better, and with some improvements, by a
joiner at Snaith, which cost him £12. "He always
wished people to believe that he made it himself; but this
was not the case, for the person that made it declared to us
that Jemmy enjoined him not to divulge who had made it
during his lifetime."* Inside the coffin he placed a handle
connected with a bell outside, so that, as he said, if he
wanted anything when in his grave— shaving-water, sherry,
or his boots — he would ring the bell for his servant to bring
them to him.

He bought a sloop, which he called " The Bull," and
made a voyage in her once as far as Boston ; but he was so
sick during the passage that he could never after be per-
suaded to set foot on her again. u Nay, nay," said he, " a
yard of dry land is worth a mile of water."

Otter-hunting on the marshes between Rawclifle and
Goole was one of his favourite pastimes. He kept a small
pack of otter-hounds for the purpose.

One day, when out with three dogs, near where Tun-
bridge House now stands, the dogs started an otter and
gave him chase. He made for a drain, and there being
plenty of water in it, he dived several times. The dogs
followed him in the water, and Jemmy ran along the edge
waiting for him. When the otter came out close to him,
Jemmy struck at him, but missed his aim and fell, owing
to the mud being slippery. The otter immediately seized

* " Life and Adventures of James Hirst." Knottingley : Ilepworth
(n.d.)

Jemmy Hirst ; an Oddity. 2 1 7

him by the leg, and succeeded in dragging him into the
water before the hounds could come to his assistance. A
favourite dog, named Sancho, dived, and seizing the otter
by the throat, forced it to release Jemmy's leg, and he
reached the bank greatly shaken and exhausted. He for-
tunately wore that day a thick pair of leather boots, which
prevented the teeth of the otter from cutting his flesh.
The other dogs had dived to the assistance of Sancho, and
they brought the otter to the bank, where Jemmy clubbed
it. It was the largest otter that he had ever caught, and
he had the skin tanned. He kept it for two or three years,
and then made a present of it to a hair-dresser who used to
attend and shave him.

As he was returning one night about eight o'clock from
Howden, where he had been to the bank to draw some
money, he was attacked by a couple of foot-pads, who
probably knew where he had been. One seized the bridle
of his bull, and the other took hold of Jemmy's arm and
demanded his money. Jemmy suddenly drew a pistol from
his pocket and fired it — according to his own account — full
in the man's face, then struck spurs into the bull and
galloped home. After getting assistance, he returned to
the place where he had been stopped, but could find no
trace of the persons who had attempted to rob him.

With the assistance of the captain of his sloop, Jemmy
rigged some sails to his carriage, and after a few trials of
the new contrivance in the lanes about Rawcliffe, he set off
one day to Pontefract with all sail set. Having a fair wind
he went at a dashing speed. When he reached the town
every one turned out to see the wonderful ship that sailed
on dry land.

But when Jemmy reached the first cross-street a puff of

2 1 8 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

wind caught him sideways, upset the carriage, and flung
Jemmy through the window of a draper's shop, smashing
several panes.

The crowd that followed speedily righted the carriage
and extricated Jemmy, who paid for the damage he had
done, and led the way to the nearest tavern, where he
treated the whole crowd with ale. This bounty naturally
elicited great enthusiasm, which exhibited itself in pro-
longed cheers, to Jemmy's great delight, for he was one of
the most conceited of men.

The authorities having intimated to him that he would
not be allowed to sail back through the streets, the crowd
yoked themselves to the carriage, and drew him triumph-
antly out of the town, and would have dragged him half
way to Rawcliffe had not a favourable wind sprung up,
when Jemmy spread his sails again, and was blown out of
sight of the crowd with expedition. He reached home
without any further mishap.

A friend writes to me : — " I remember Jemmy Hirst well
coming to Doncaster races in his wretched turn-out, and
with a bag of nuts, which he always brought with him for a
scramble. He was not a very reputable individual, and
must have been, I fancy, half-witted. He was wont to
issue flash notes on the ' Bank of Rawcliffe,' meaning the
river bank, for five farthings; and as these bore a great
resemblance to the notes issued by a banking firm in
Doncaster, he was able to deceive many people with them."

Among other accomplishments, Jemmy played the fiddle
tolerably well. In winter he would collect all the boys
and girls of Rawcliffe at his house in the evenings, once a
week at least, when he would play the fiddle for them to
dance to. At nine o'clock punctually he rang a bell and

Jemmy Hirst ; an Oddity. 2 1 9

dismissed them. He never would allow them to remain a
minute longer. They were sent away with buns, simnel-
cake, or apples.

On another evening of the week he would have all the
old women to tea, but he would allow no men in to have
tea with him on these occasions. They were invited to
come in later, and then dancing and singing began, which
continued till nine, when he would dismiss them with a
glass of rum or gin each.

On the evenings that he wished the children to come he
blew a horn thrice at his door, and six blasts of the horn
assembled the old people.

In his old age Jemmy was frequently laid up with gout,
when he amused himself with the composition of doggerel
verses, mostly about himself. They were contemptible
productions, but his vanity made him suppose that he was
a poet. He got these rhymes printed, and sold them
for a penny to his numerous visitors, and as sometimes on
a Sunday he had three or four hundred people to see
him, he realised a good sum — enough to keep him for the
week — from this source.

But besides selling his verses, Jemmy used to make
money by showing his coffin to visitors. He would induce
them to enter the largest one, which was contrived to close
upon any one inside, and hold him fast as a prisoner till
released from the outside. No one once within was
suffered to escape without payment — men were charged a
penny, women one of their garters. In this way Jemmy ac-
cumulated hundreds of garters, which he tied to his chair.
They were of all sorts, from a piece of silk down to a bit of
whip-cord. He used to say that he could always tell a
woman's character by her garter.

2 20 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

His old housekeeper, Sarah, after a tedious illness, died,
and then Jemmy would not suffer any one to attend him
except the wife of the captain of his sloop, "The Bull," who
used to live in the house with him when her husband was at
sea. All his pets were sold off, except a fox which he
called Charley, that was chained in the back-yard ; and his
pointer pigs were converted into bacon and eaten.

During the last few years of his life Jemmy was confined
a great deal within doors, and the neighbouring gentry used
very often to visit him for the sake of old times; but he
never would tolerate a visit from a clergyman. He had no
religion whatever, and very little morality either. No one
ever saw him inside a church or chapel, or got him to enter
on religious conversation.

He was visited one day when he was visibly declining by
Lord and Lady Wharncliffe ; and the latter, on his swearing
at the twinges of his gout, gently reproved him, pained to
see how utterly indifferent he seemed to the future. " Mr.
Hirst," said her Ladyship, " you should not swear ; you
really ought to make some preparation for death."

"Haven't I, my lady ?" asked Jemmy. "I've had my
coffin made these ten years."

It was in vain that Lady Wharncliffe endeavoured to get
him into a serious turn ; he turned off all her remarks with
a bantering reply.

Jemmy was subject to temporary fits of insanity, in one
of which he stripped himself stark naked, and ran all round
Rawcliffe. Fortunately it was night, so that there were not
many people abroad ; but he nearly frightened one young
fellow out of his wits as he came bounding upon him in the
moonlight, round a corner. The cries of this man brought
people to his assistance, and they ran after Jemmy and

Jemmy Hirst ; a?i Oddity. 2 2 1

caught him as he was stepping into a boat with the purpose
of ferrying himself across the river, his mind in this dis-
ordered condition returning to the event of his youth, when
he rowed across to meet his poor Mary. They brought him,
not without trouble, to his house, and put him to bed.
What made it the more remarkable was, that he had been
confined to his bed all day with gout, and could scarcely
move a limb.

Jemmy died on October 29th, 1829, at the age of
ninety-one. By his will he left ^12 to be given to twelve
old maids for carrying him to his grave, £$ for a bagpiper
from Aberdeen to play before him alternately with a fiddler
to whom he also bequeathed £$, as he was borne to the
churchyard.

The executors had some trouble in carrying out his
wishes. The rector of Rawcliffe protested against the
music being played on the occasion ; but eventually a com-
promise was effected, and the piper was alone allowed to
head the funeral to church, playing sacred music. Sacred
music on a Scottish bagpipe !

Long before the funeral started for the church hundreds
of spectators had collected in front of the house. Every-
thing being in readiness, the procession moved off — the
neighbouring gentry and farmers on horseback, followed
by the piper ; next came the coffin, carried by six of the
old maids and two men, the other six of the old maids
bearing the pall. The piper played a psalm tune ; but as
soon as ever the funeral was over, the fiddler met the piper
at the church gates, and they struck up the tune of " Owre
the hills and far awa'," followed by the crowd to Jemmy's
late residence, where they received their money and were
dismissed.

222 Yorkshire Oddities a?id Incidents.

THE TRAGEDY OF BENINGBROUGH HALL.

|N 1670, Beningbrough Hall, a fine Elizabethan
red-brick mansion, stood in a park near the
junction of the Ouse and Xidd. The old house
has been pulled down, and replaced by an
edifice neat and commodious, as the guide-books would
say, and we need say no more.

In 1670 Beningbrough Hall belonged to a Roman
Catholic family of the name of Earle. Mr. Earle, the pro-
prietor, was in somewhat embarrassed circumstances, and
was mixed up with some of the plots then rife. He
was much away from the Hall — generally in London;
but the house was full of servants, under the control
of a steward, Philip Laurie, and a housekeeper, named
Marian — a comely woman, just passing into middle age.

One day, when Laurie was absent, two gentlemen
arrived at the Hall, cloaked, with their hats drawn over
their eyes, and were admitted by Marian. One of these
wras Mr. Earle himself, anxious to escape recognition.
Who the other was did not transpire. After some con-
versation with the housekeeper, Marian summoned the
servants into the hall, and ordered them immediately to
collect and pack the plate and pictures— everything that
was of value and readily movable. Mr. Earl did not show
himself — he remained in the housekeeper's room ; but his

The Tragedy of Beningbrough Hall. 223

companion appeared, and announced that he and Marian
were acting under the authority of Mr. Earle, and he read
them a letter from that gentleman requiring the removal of
his valuable property as the housekeeper should direct.

The servants were much surprised ; but as it was known
that their master was in difficulties, and as some suspicion
seems to have entered their heads that he was engaged
in a plot, their wonder died away ; they diligently dis-
charged their duty, and everything that was required was
speedily collected and stowed away in leather bags or
wooden boxes in the hall. The housekeeper then dis-
missed the servants, and she and the stranger conveyed the
articles packed up into her room.

Where were they next to be conveyed to, so as to be
readily removed ? Mr. Earle expected a warrant for his
arrest on the charge of high treason, and the confiscation
of all his property. He was therefore desirous to remove
all he could in time to escape to France.

To avoid observation, it was advisable that his valuables
should be secreted somewhere near, but not in the house.
Marian then, with some hesitation, told the master that an
attachment subsisted between her and the gamekeeper, a man
named Martin Giles; that she could rely on his not divulging
the secret, and trust him with the custody of the plate,
&C, till it suited the convenience of Mr. Earle to take them
away. She was accordingly despatched to the gamekeeper's
cottage, and he was brought to the Hall, and as much
of the secret confided to him as could not well be retained.
He promised most frankly to do what was desired of him,
and as he was a Roman Catholic, Mr. Earle felt satisfied
that he could trust him not to betray a master who pro-
fessed the same faith.

224 Yorkshire Oddities and Incide7its.

When Philip Laurie returned he found to his surprise
that the house had been stripped of everything precious.
He was extremely incensed, and in an angry interview with
Marian charged her with having told tales of him to her
master, and so of having lost him the confidence of Mr.
Earle. She did not deny that she mistrusted his honesty,
unhappily recalled a circumstance he thought she knew
nothing of, and took occasion to give him "a bit of her
mind " ; but she protested that she had not spoken on the
subject to her master.

Philip Laurie asked where the property was removed to.
She refused to tell him. He swore he would know. He
did not trust her story. The house had been plundered ;
the opportunity had been taken when he was absent, and
Marian was privy to a robbery.

After violent words on both sides they parted. As he
left the room the steward turned, fixing his eyes, blazing
with deadly hate, upon the housekeeper, and muttered a
few inarticulate words.

It was not long before Laurie suspected or discovered
where the valuables were secreted.

Chance had thrown in his way a labourer of bad
character named William Vasey, a poacher and a reputed
thief. Laurie walked through the park to the cottage of
this miscreant, and it was resolved between them that the
housekeeper should be murdered, and then that the lodge
of the gamekeeper should be robbed.

In the evening Marian was taking her accustomed walk
along a beech avenue beside the Ouse. It was evening,
and the red evening sky was reflected in the water, which
looked like a streak of blood. The rooks were cawing and
wheeling about the tree-tops, settling for the night.

The Tragedy of Bcningbrotigh Hall. 225

A white owl that lived in the ivy that covered the north
side of the house fleeted, ghostlike, through the gathering
darkness. Marian in her white cap walked quietly in the
avenue. She was a Roman Catholic, and was reciting her
beads. Laurie knew that she was accustomed every
evening to retire into this walk to say her rosary.

At one point a beech-tree had been blown over, and
had left a gap to the west, through which the faint reflec-
tion of the evening sky fell, leaving the shadows beyond
it in deeper gloom. For some unaccountable reason, as
Marian came to this gap, instead of passing it and con-
tinuing her walk, she stood still, and then turned. A second
time she walked the avenue and came to this gap. A
mysterious repugnance to advance caused her to hesitate
halt and.

Thinking that this was an unreasonable feeling, she
walked on a couple of steps, and then stood still, turned
round, and looked at the spot where the sun had gone
down.

At that moment Vasey sprang from behind a tree, and
thrust Marian over the brink. With a shriek she sank.

Next morning the body was found, a part of the rosary
clenched in her hand, and the other portion was discovered
caught in the stump of the broken beech. Prints of a
man's boots in the mud showed that Marian had not died
by accidentally falling into the water.

Suspicion of the guilt of the murder fell upon Martin
Giles, the gamekeeper. Laurie was in the Hall the whole
time, and therefore no one supposed him implicated in the
commission of the crime. The gamekeeper had behaved
mysteriously for the last day or two. He had avoided his
usual friends ; he had been seen privately conversing with

Q

226 Yo7'l shire Oddities and Incidents.

the housekeeper. Only Marian and he knew that their
master had been in the house ; his presence had been con-
cealed from the other servants, who only saw his companion.
The removal of the valuables to the house of Giles had
been accomplished by the two gentlemen with the assist-
ance of the gamekeeper alone. After the valuables had
been taken away, the two gentlemen in disguise had ridden
off.

The servants, who had noticed that there was some
mystery to which Giles and Marian were privy, thought that
the keeper had killed the poor woman out of dread lest
she should prove an untrustworthy depositary of the secret,
whatever it was. It was known also that the lovers had
been accustomed to meet in the beech avenue, the place
where the murder had been committed.

Whilst the tide of popular indignation ran strong against
the unfortunate gamekeeper, Laurie and Vasey resolved on
committing the robber)' — before also Mr. Earle and his
companion had found means to remove the property en-
trusted to his custody.

At midnight Vasey and the steward went to the game-
keeper's cottage. Laurie was to remain outside, and the
other ruffian to enter and rob the house. They thought
that Martin Giles was sure to be asleep ; but they were
mistaken. The man had been sincerely attached to poor
Marian, and lay tossing in bed, wondering who could have
murdered her, and vainly racking his brain to discover some
clue which could guide him to a solution of the mystery.
As he thus lay, he thought he heard a slight sound down-
stairs. But the wind was blowing, and the trees roaring in
the blast j the little diamond panes in the latticed windows
clattered, and the keeper thought nothing of it.

The Tragedy of Beningb rough Hall. 227

Presently, however, he heard the latch of his door gently
raised, and in the darkness he just distinguished the figure
of a man entering the room. He immediately jumped out of
bed, but was felled to the ground. As he struggled to rise
he was again struck down, and for the moment was stunned.
But he recovered consciousness almost immediately. He
had fallen upon a sheep net, which lay in a heap on the
floor. He quietly gathered up the net in his hands, sprang
to his feet, and flinging the net over the murderer, entangled
his arms so that he could not extricate himself.

He wrenched the bludgeon out of his hand, and struck
him over the head with it, so that he measured his length,
insensible, on the floor.

Had Martin only known that this ruffian had been the
murderer of her who had been dearer to him than anyone
else in the world, there is no doubt but the blow would
have fallen heavier, and would have spared the hangman
his trouble.

Giles then threw open his window and fired off his gun,
to alarm the inmates of the Hall.

In a few minutes the servants made their appearance,
amongst them Philip Laurie, with a ghastly face. A
sign passed between him and Vasey, and he recovered
some of his composure. The captured ruffian had assured
him he would not betray his accomplice.

Vasey was taken into custody, and on the following day
was removed to York Castle, where he was committed for
burglary with intent to commit murder.

When Mr. and Mrs. Earle heard of what had taken
place, the latter came with the utmost speed into Yorkshire.
Mr. Earle, fearing arrest for treasonable practices, did not
venture to do so.

228 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

Laurie's conduct had already excited suspicion. He
had not been seen issuing from the Hall on the night of
the attempted robbery with the other servants, and was
found on the spot fully dressed, and that not in his usual
costume, but one which looked as if intended for a disguise.

Mrs. Earle sent for him to her boudoir, and dismissed
him from her service. As yet there was no charge suffi-
ciently established against him to warrant her commit-
ting him to custody ; but she added, Vasey had declared his
full intention to confess before his execution.

Laurie, a desperate man, flung himself on his knees, and
implored his mistress not to send him away ; or if, as he
heard, she was about to escape with Mr. Earle to France,
would she allow him to accompany them ?

She indignantly thrust the wretch from her. He started
to his feet, drew a pistol from his coat-pocket, and pre-
sented it at her head. She struck up his hand, and the
contents of the pistol shivered the glasses of a chandelier
that hung in the room. He rushed out of the room, ran to
his own apartment, put another pistol to his forehead, and
blew his brains out.

Vasey now confessed everything, and was executed at
the Tyburn, outside Micklegate Bar, at York, on August
18th, 1670.

It is said that at night a pale female figure is seen
to steal along the bank of the Ouse, where the avenue
stood in olden time, and to disappear in the churchyard
of Newton, which adjoins the park, where Marian was
buried.

A Yorkshire Butcher.

229

A YORKSHIRE BUTCHER.

HE subject of this memoir has been dead only
a few years, and therefore I do not give his
name, lest it should cause annoyance to his
relatives. He was a tall, red-faced, jovial man,
with a merry twinkle in his small eyes ; a man who could
tell a good story with incomparable drollery, and withal was
the gentlest, kindest-hearted man, who would never wound
the most sensitive feelings by ridicule. He had a splendid
bass voice, and sang in the church choir j his knowledge
of music was not inconsiderable, and for some time he was
choir-master, and performed a feat few other men have
been able to accomplish — he was able to keep the dis-
cordant elements of a choir in harmony. His inimitable
tact, unvarying good nature, and readiness to humour the
most self-consequential of the performers, made him vastly
popular with them, and prevented or healed those jars
which are proverbial among professed votaries of harmony.
This worthy butcher thus narrated his courtship : —
" It's a queer thing, sir, hoo things turns oot sometimes.
Noo it war a queer thing hoo I chanced to get wed. I
war i' Leeds once, and I'd na mair thowts aboot marrying
na mair 'an nowt ; and I war just going doon t' street, tha
knaws, sir, when I met.wi' my wife— that's her 'at'smy wife

230 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

noo, tha knaws. I'd kenned her afore, a piece back ; soa
shoo comes oop to me, an' shoo ses, ' Why, James lad, is
that thee ? ' — ' Aye,' I ses, ' it is awever.' — ' Weel, James,'
ses she, f what's ta doing wi thysen noo ? ' — ' Why,' I ses,
' I's joost getten me a new hoose.' Soa wi' that she ses,
'Then I lay, James, if tha's getting a new hoose, tha'll be
wanting a hoosekeeper.' Soa I ses to 'er, ses I, ' Tha ma'
coom and be t' wife if ta likes ; tha mawn't be t' hoose-
keeper, tha knaws, but tha ma' coom and be t' wife.' And
soa shoo ses, ' I ain't partikler. I don't mind if I do.' So
we never had na mair to do aboot t' job."

I asked him if he ever had found occasion to regret such
an expeditious way of settling the matter. He shook his
head and said, " Noa, sir, niver. Shoo's made a rare good
wife. But shoo's her mawgrums a' times. But what
women ain't got 'em ? They've all on 'em maggots i'
their heads or tempers. Tha sees, sir, when a bone were
took out o' t' side o' Adam, to mak a wife for 'm, 't were
hot weather, an' a blew-bottle settled on t' rib. When
shoo's i' her tantrums, ses I to her, ' Ma dear,' ses I, ' I
wish thy great-great-grand ancestress hed chanced ta be
made i' winter."

When he was married he took his wife a trip to Bolton,
and spent a week on his honeymoon tour. As soon as he
was returned home, the first thing he did was to put his
wife into the scales and weigh her. Then the butcher took
out his account-book, and divided the expenses of the
marriage and wedding-tour by the weight of the wife. u Eh !
lass !" said he, " thou'st cost me fourteen pence ha'penny
a pound. Thou'st the dearest piece o' meat that iver I
bought."

He had a barometer. The glass stood at set-fair, and

A Yorkshire Butcher. 231

for a whole week the rain had been pouring down. On the
eighth day the glass was still telling the same tale, and the
rain was still falling. Our friend lost his patience, and
holding the barometer up to the window he said, " Sithere,
lass ! thou'st been telling lees. Dost thou see how it's
pouring ? I'll teach thee to tell lees again ! " And he
smashed the glass.

He was laid up with gout. The doctor had tried all
sorts of medicines, but nothing seemed to profit him.
At last the medical man said, " Try smoking. I daresay
smoking would do you a deal of good."

" Ah," said the wife, " it's possible it might. But thou
seest, doctor, chimleys is made so narrow nowadays that
one cannot hang un up i' t' reek (smoke) as one did wi'
one's bacon i' bygone days."

His wife was dying. She was long ill, and during her
sickness was always exclaiming, u Eh ! I'm boun' to dee.
It win't be long afore I dee. I shan't be long here " — and
the like. Our jolly butcher heard these exclamations day
after day, and said nothing. At last he got a little im-
patient over them, and said one day, as she was exclaiming
as usual, " O dear ! I'm goin' to dee ! " — " Why, lass,
thou'st said that ower and ower again a mony times. Why
doan't thou set a time, and stick to it ? "

On another occasion his wife slightly varied the tune to
" Eh ! the poor bairns ! What will become o' t' bairns
when I dee ? Who will mind t' bairns when their mother
is dead?"

"Never thee trouble thy head about that," said her
husband ; " go on wi' thy deein'. I'll mind t' bairns."

He was going to York with his son, a boy of eighteen.
He took a ticket fcr himself and a half-one for the boy.

232 Yorlcshh'e Oddities and Incidents.

When the train drew near to York, the ticket-collector
came round, and exclaimed at this half-ticket, " Where's
the child ?"

" Here," said the butcher, pointing to the tall, awkward
youth.

" What do you mean ? " asked the indignant ticket-
collector. " He ain't a child ; he's a young man ! "

" Ah ! so he is, now," answered the butcher ; " but that's
thy fault, not mine. I know when we got in at Wakefield
he were nobbut a bairn; but tha'st been going so con-
founded slow that he's growed sin' we started ! "

Many years ago, on a rare occasion, James took a glass
too much. It was the last time such a misfortune took
place with him. His clergyman was obliged to speak to
him about it, and in so doing said — " You know, James,
beasts do not get drunk."

"There's a deal o' things belonging to all things,"
answered the worthy butcher, who never suffered himself
to be cornered. " If a horse were o' one side o' a pond,
and another on t' other side, and t' first horse ses to t' other,
1 Jim, I looks towards ye ! ' and the t' other ses to the first,
1 Thank y* kindly, Tom ; I catches your eye.' And the first
horse ses again, ' Tha'll tak' another sup, lad, and drink
ma health '; the second will be sewer to say, ' I will, and I'll
drink to lots o' your healths.' Why, sir, them two horses
will be nobbin to one another iver so long. Lor bless
ye ! them two horses win't part till they's as drunk as
Christians."

James at one time was not well off. He had a brother
whom we will call Tom, who had some money.

Now James happened to hear that his brother was very
ill, and as they had not latterly been very good friends, he

A Yorkshire Butcher. 233

was afraid lest, if Tom died, he would not leave him his
money.

So he immediately set off to his brother's house, and
on his arrival found him ill in bed. He went up to the
room in which his brother lay, and began — " Weel, Tommy,
an' hoo art a' ?"

11 Oah, James ! " said Tom, " I'se vara bad. I thinks I's
boun' to dee."

" Eh ! " said James, " well, mebbe tha'lt outlive me,
Tommy ; I nobbut feels vara middlin' mysen. I hain't
felt weel for a long while, and I war just thinking, Tommy,
o' sending to Mr. Smith, t' lawyer, to mak' me a bit o' a
will, tha knaws. Hast a' made thy will, Tommy? "

" Noa," said Tom, " I hain't ; but I war thinking wi
thee, James, o' sending for Lawyer Smith. Noo, hoo wast
a' thinking o' making thy will, James ? "

"Weel, tha knaws, Tommy," said James, "mebbe thou
and me hain't lately been vara particklers ; but I war
thinking it ever owt ta be, ' Let bygones be bygones ' ; and
soa I was thinking o' leaving my bit o' brass to thee. Noo,
Tommy, hoo wast a' thinking o' leaving thy money ? "

" Why," said Tommy, " as thou'st been sa good as leave
thy money ta me, I think it wadn't be reet if I didn't do
t' same by thee, and leave thee my money."

11 Weel," said James, u I think thou couldn't do better ;
and soa let's send for Mr. Smith to mak' our wills, and I
think mebbe, Tommy, thou'd better hcf thy will made fust."

So these two men sent for the lawyer to make their wills.
Tommy's was made first, and a very few days after he died.
His money then came to James, who in reality was not ill
in the least, but had only pretended to be so.

One of James the butcher's sayings I well remember.

234 Yorkshire Oddities a?id Incidents.

He was addressing a young man who was courting a girl,
and was very hot and eager in his pursuit of her.

" I'll gi'e thee a bit o' advice, Joa : Don't bother to
shuttle a happle-tree to get t' fruit; tak' it easy; wait,
and t/ apples will fall into thy lap o' their selves. Don't
go coursing over hedges and threw ditches after rabbits ;
wait a bit, and t' rabbits 'all come into thy springes without
trouble. Don't take on running after t' lasses ; take it
easy, and thou'lt find, Joa lad, that t' lasses will run after
thee."

At one time James rented some land of a neighbouring
gentleman of large fortune and estates who was well known
for his hospitality. James was invited with other tenants to
dine on Court day at the Hall, and dinner was served up in
the best style. On his return home to his wife, he gave
her an account of it. " Eh ! Phcebe, but it wad ha' capped
owt. There were beef and mutton, and chickens and
game, and ivery thing one could think of. I's sewer I were
fair an' bet wi' it all ; but what bet ma moast o' all were
'at we'd ivery one on us a small loaf lapped up i' a clout."

Liqueurs were handed round after dinner. Our good
friend took his little glass of the, to him, unknown tipple,
and after drinking it off at one gulp, and considering a
while, turned round to the waiter and said, " John, bring
us some o' this 'ere i' a moog."

At a club dinner, a wedding breakfast, or a funeral
lunch, James was overflowing with anecdotes. He was
generally the hero of his stories ; but I do not believe that
they all in reality happened to himself. The stories often
told against the principal actor in them, and therefore he
may have thought it legitimate to appropriate to himself
tales which made him appear in a ludicrous light.

A Yorkshire Butcher. 235

I can only remember a few of these stories.

" It was one night in November last that I and my wife
Phoebe was sitting tawking i' t' house. It were a dark
night, as black as Warren's best. Now I mun tell thee that
our Rachel Anne — that's our grown-up daughter — were at
that age when they mostly likes to ha' a sweetheart.
Shoo'd gotten a young man. I don't like to name names,
but as we're all friends here, I don't mind saying he were
a downright blackguard. It were old Greenwood's son,
tha knaws ; t' lad as were locked up by t' police for boiling
a cat. Well, Rachel Anne were mad after him, and nother
her mother nor I liked it. We were nicely put out
I promise you.

"To go on wi' my tale. Phcebe and I was sitting
by t' fire, when all at once I ses to my old woman,
1 Phcebe lass, where's Rachel Anne ? Shoo's not at home
I reckon.'

" ' Nay, James lad' said she, ' shoo's at a confirmation
class.'

" ' At a confirmation !' said I, and I whistled. ' I thowt
confirmation was ower.'

" ' Ah 1 I dunnow sure ; but that's what shoo said.'

" ■ Is owd Greenwood's son, Jim, going to confirmation
class too?'

" ' I cannot tell,' shoo said.

" ' No more can I,' said I ; ' but I'd like to know ?'

II ' So should I,' said she.

" 'Win't thee look out o' chamber window and see if
there's a leet i' t' school?' said I. So my owd woman
went upstairs and looked, and when shoo came doun,
' No, there ain't,' said she.

" ' I thowt not,' said I.

136 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

" Well, we sat by t' fire some while, and then my owd lass
went into back kitchen to get a bit o' supper ready. Shoo
hadn't been there long afore shoo come back and said,
'James, lad!'

" ' Ah ! ' says I ; ' what's up ?'

a t why, this,' says she ; ' there's summun i' t' back yard.'

" • How dost a' know?' says I.

" Says she, ' I heard 'em taukin ; and there's a lanthorn
there.'

" 'There's impidence !' says I. 'Who is they?'

" ' I think Rachel Anne is one,' says Phcebe.

" ' And Jim Greenwood is t' other,' says I ; ' and I'm
glad on't.'

" ' Lor ! ' says Phcebe.

" ' Lass,' says I, ' I'll pay yond chap out, I will. I'll go
out by f front door, and I'll come on him, and I'll let him
know what I think of him, coming arter our Rachel Anne.
And when I've gotten howd on him, I'll hollow. Then do
thou run out o' t' back door, and I'll howd him tight,
and thou can poise him behind as much as thou like.
Since we've been man and wife these fourteen year,' says I,
' we've taken our pleasure in common,' says I. ' We've
been to Hollingworth Lake together,' says I. ' And we've
been to Southport together,' says I. 'And wunce we
went together to t' exhibition i' Wakefield together. So,'
says I, ' we'll ha' the kicking, and the shuttling, and the
rumpling up o' yond lad o' Greenwood's together. Q
glory ! ' And then I run out o' t' front door as wick as a
scoprill,* and came shirking round towards t' back door i' t'
yard. Well, t' night were dark, but I could see there were
some folks there, and I could see the glint o' a lanthorn,
• As lively as a teetotum.

A Yorkshire Butcher. 237

and ^ leet from t' back kitchen window came on a bit o'
gownd, and I know'd it belonged to Rachel Anne.

" ' Drat him !' said I to mysen, ' what is lasses coming to
next, when they brings their young men under the noses o'
their parents wot can't abear them ?'

" So I came sloping up along the wall till I was quite
near. Will you believe it ? — her young man, that's owd
Greenwood's lad Jim, was sitting as easy as owt i' a chair.

" ' Oh, you charmer ! ' says Rachel Anne. I heard her
voice. I know'd it were she. ' You're near perfect now !'

" • Oh lawk ! ' thinks I, ' there's no accounting for tastes.'
Jim he ain't ower much o' a beauty, I promise thee.
He's gotten a cast i' one o' his eyes, and when he washes his
face he's gotten a black stock on; and when he don't,
why, then he's all o' a muck, face and neck alike.

" ' Can I get thee owt ? ' says Rachel Anne, as shameless
as owt. ' Ah ! tha wants a pair o' boots. I reckon father's
gotten an owd pair he win't miss. I'll get them for thee.'
Then sudden, as she was going away to t' back door, she
turns and says, 'My! he ain't got no pipe. I mun get him
one 0' father's.'

" ' Oh ye abandoned profligate ! ' groaned I, ' robbing
thy parents to bestow all on this owdacious waggabone !
But I'll be even wi' thee 1 I'll let my fine gentleman know
the looks o' my back-yard ! I'll let un ha' a taste o' my
baccy 1 I'll let un know the feel o' my boots ! '

u Father's breeches fit un rare 1 ' said Rachel Anne.

" Well, now ! if that warn't too much. I yelled —

" ' Ah ! ye dirty waggabone ! Thou stealing rascal !
Thou cock-eyed raggamuffin 1 ' And I wor upon him in no
time. I caught un by t' neck and shook un furious. I wor
nigh brussen wi' rage. He were fair down capped, and

138 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

said nowt. But, as you'll see presently, he were gathering
up his rage for a reglar outbust. He were nigh brussen
too.

" • Well,' says I, ' wot is't a doing here ! I knows !
Thou'rt arter my Rachel Anne. Well. Tha'lt never
marry my daughter if I can help it. I'll never own thee
wi' thy ugly face for a son-in-law. I win't run the chance
o' a cock-eye i' my grand-children. If my dowter will ha'
thee, I'll disown her ; I win't speak to her again.' Then I
shook him. ' Take that/ says I, and I gave him a blow o'
the fist on his nose, and I reckon I flattened it in. • Dost
a' like it ? ' says I. ' Take another taste — a little stimu-
lant will do thee good.' Then I kicked un off t' chair,
and dragged him up, and shook, and shook, and shook him
till I were all of a muck wi' sweat. So I hollered to my
Phcebe. ' Phoebe, lass ! come and poise un i' t' rear. I'll
hold un i' position.' Well, she came out, and she gave
him a crack.

" * Now,' says I, ' I'd like to look i' thy ugly face and
take stock o' t' damages. I've done thy beauty. Phoebe
lass ! give me t' candle.' Shoo went to t' lanthorn, and
browt out t' candle and gave it to me.

"Jim Greenwood hung all limp, like old clothes i' my
hand, and never spoke. But I didn't know what fire and
fury was in him then. He wor just one o' them chaps as
endures what you may say and do up to a certain point,
but when that point is passed, then — Lor' ! '

" I took t' candle from my owd woman — that's my wife
I mean, tha mun know — and I held it afore me. Lor-a-
mussy, I were flayed ! I let go hold, and let t' candle tumble
on Jim — that's owd Greenwood's son, tha knows — and I
stood shakin' i' all my limbs. I'd smashed his nose right

A Yorhsliire Butcher, 239

in ; I'd broken t' bridge and knocked it in, and there
weren't nowt on it remaining. And his eyes — Lor ! I
hadn't time to think, for I had passed t' point, and t' chap
couldn't stan; no more. I'd let t' candle fall on him, and
set him on fire. Folks don't over much like being set fire
to — leastways owd Greenwood's son didn't; for he did
blaze, and bang, and fizz, and snap, and crackle away !
He reglar exploded, he did ! I stood in a sort o' maze
like — I were dazed. Phoebe screamed. And then came
a great haw-haw from my boys, who were all there. I
could see 'em now by t' leet o' t' burning sweetheart. • Lor,
father !" said Rachel Ann, as innocent asowt, ' What hast
a' been doing to our Guy Fawkes ? '

" Well, sir, will you believe it ? — it was nowt but a Guy
Fawkes full o' straw and squibs and crackers 'at I'd in-
voluntarily set on fire."

This story was told, scarcely above a breath, during a
missionary meeting, whilst a colonial bishop was addressing
us. James did not laugh himself — was as grave as was
proper on the occasion ; but his little eyes twinkled
roguishly, and those who could hear the whispered tale
with difficulty restrained their laughter.

" I think I can tell you summut as happened to my
brother Tommy," said James, after we had sung " From
Greenland's icy mountains," and were walking at a judicious
distance from the colonial bishop. ** Well, my brother Tom
were a rare bird to drink. He'd been to t' Horse and
Jockey one day, and had supped enough beer for once, and
when he came out aboot half after ten, he warn't ower clear
as to t' direction he sud go. Howm'ever, he took t' loin
(lane) all right. Presently there come some one along t'
road. ' Now,' thowt he, * I mun keep clear o' he, or he'll

240 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

run hissel' again' me, and knock me down.' T mooin were
tip, just settin', and castin' shadows ; so he made a great
roundabout to avoid lurching again' t' man as were comin'
along ; but seeing his shadow, ma brother mistook that for
t' man, and thowt t' shadow had cast t' feller. So he tried
to step ower t' chap and avoid t5 shadow. As tha mun see,
he came wi' a crack again t/ chap.

" ' Ye druffen rascal,' said he, giving ma brother a bang
on f lugs (ears) as made his head spin.

" ■ It's thy fault,' said Tom. ' What dost a' mean by
having a standing-up shadow and solid too ? '

" The chap gives him another crack and tumbles him
down. When ma brother got up again he went on his
road again, saying to hissel', ' I winna go blundering again'
no more shadows to-night if I see anybody coming.' Just
then he thowt he saw another chap ; so to get out o' his
way he turned into a field by a gate to let un pass. Now,
ma brother had a little too much beer in his head ; soa when
he got into t' field he couldn't get out again. He rambled
round and round, and t' mooin went down.

" « Weel,' ses he, ' I don't care ; I'll sleep where I am.'
And he ligs him down on t' ground. He hadn't been long
asleep afore he wakened wi' cold. T'dews o' neet came
falling on him and wetted him, and his teeth were chatter-
ing ; so then he opened his eyes. And what dost a' think
he seed ? Why, standing above him were a hawful form as
black as a crow. His legs was crooked, his arms was
spread, and Tom could see claws on his fingers. His face
were like nowt earthly; and he had bristling hair, and
great horns like a coo. Tom could see t' glint o' his
wicked een fixed on him.

" Weel, now, Tommas weren't that sort o' chap exackly

A Yorkshire Butcher. 241

as might flatter hissen angels 'ud come after him out o'
heaven ; so the thowt came on him it were t' owd chap
come to fetch his soul to t' other place.

" Tom lay quite still. He thowt t' owd chap mebbe
would let un lig a while if he shammed sleep. He wouldn't
be so unmannerly as to wake un up for the purpose o' takin'
him away. Tha knaws t' oud chap war' a gem'man once,
tho' he's fallen a bit sin'. Yet what's born i' t' bone comes
out i' t' flesh — leastwise so Tom thowt.

" Soa Tom lay quiet. But presently he thowt he felt
t' owd chap's fingers feeling in his pocket for four and two-
pence he'd gotten aboot him somewhere. Soa Tom turned
round sudden on him and ses, ' Tha mun tak ma soul if
tha's boun' to do soa; but I'll trouble thee to let t' four and
twopence aloan.'

" Ah ! he war' a deep one war' t' owd chap. As sharp
as owt, when Tom turned on un, he were standing up stiff
and unconcerned, and looking t' other way.

" Nah, as Tom had spoken, 't want no use his pretending
any more to be asleep. So he thowt, • What am I to do
next ? Tha mun do more we traycle than tha' can wi'
brimstone. I'll soap un down a bit.'

" Then Tom opens his eyes and looks at un and ses,
'Owt fresh?' But he wouldn't answer, and reveal the
mysteries o'his shop.

" So Tom ses, ses he, ' I reckon tha'st coom a rare long
way, and it's thirsty work walking, or flying, or travelling by
train, or whichiver way tha hast corned. And,' ses he, ' I
tak it vara civil o' thee to come for me. There's ma owd
woman grummles if shoo's to come for ma to t' Horse and
Jockey, and that's half a mile from my home. And mebbe
tha's coined for me five thousand mile. It's vara civil. It's

R

242 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

not like a north countryman that,' ses he. 'We are out-
spoken folk, and there ain't much civility among us, but
hard rubs. But I won't be outdone by a south country-
man i' civility. I daresay tha'rt dry. Tha'll stop a bit, and
I'll fetch thee a sup o' home-brewed beer.'

" Soa Tom gets up on his feet, and away he goes as wick
as a scoprell, and gets home, and dashes in at t' door.
There were Sarah Anne, his wife, as red as a turkey-cock,
and swollen fit to brussen wi' he getting home so late.

" But Tommy he out wi' it at once. ' Sarah Anne, lass !
run and get a jug o' beer and a mug, and off wi' thee as
fast as tha' can to t' owd chap — he waiting for thee.' He
thowt, tha knaws, to get t' owd chap to tak' t' wife instead of
he. But Sarah Anne she up wi' her fist and knocked him
down as flat as ginger- beer as has had t'cork out a fort-
night. ' Ah, James,' ses ma brother to me, ' I've tried to
send ma owd woman to t' owd chap, but shoo winna go.
Tha' mun tak' a horse to t' water, but tha canna mak' un
drink.'

" Weel, next morning ma brother Tom hoo went to look
at t' place where he was i' t' neet, and there he see'd t' owd
chap still. . . . But by day leet — what dost a' think ? — he
was nowt but a flaycrow (scarecrow)."

The Old Yorkshire Tyke. 243

THE OLD YORKSHIRE TYKE.

|AIN to Clapham Toon-end lived an owd Yark-
shire tyke,
Who i' dealing i' horse-flesh had ne'er met his
like ;

'T wur his praade that i' all the hard bargains he'd hit,
He had bit a vast mony, but ne'er had been bit.

This owd Tommy Towers (by that name he wur known)
Had an owd carrion tit that wur a' skin and boan ;
To have killed un for t' dogs 't would ha' been just as well,
But 't was Tommy's opinion he'd dee o' hissel'.

One Abraham a Muggins, a neeborin cheat,
Thowt to diddle owd Tommy would be a great treat ;
He'd a horse that wur waur nor old Tommy's, d'ye see,
'Cause the neet before that he'd thowt proper to dee.

Says Abram, " T' owd codger will never smoke trick,
A'll swop him my dead horse for his as is wick,
And if that t' owd codger a happen to trap,
'Twill be a rare feather i' Abraham's cap."

So to Tommy he goes, and this question he pops,
14 'Twixt ma horse and thine, prithee Tommy, what swops ?
What'll gie me to boot ? for mine's t' better horse still."
" Xowt," says Tommy; "a'll swop even hands if tha will."

244 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

Old Abraham tried hard about summat to boot,
Insisting as his wur the livelier brute ;
But Tommy stuck fast where he once had begun,
And Abraham shook hands, and said, "Done, Tommy,
done ! ■

" Eh, Tommy," says Abraham, " a's sorry for thee ;
A' thowt thou'd a gotten more white i' thee e'e.
Good luck to thy bargain, for ma horse is dead."
" Aye," says Tommy, " so's mine ; and what's more, he's
fleed (flayed)."

So Tommy got t' better o' t' bargain a vast,
And came off wi' a Yorkshireman's triumph at last ;
For thof 'twixt deed horses there's nane much to choose,
Yet Tommy wur better by f hide and four shoes.

The One-Pound Note.

245

THE ONE-POUND NOTE.*

[AMUEL SUTCLIFFE lived at Hebden Hay,
or Hawden Hole, about a quarter of a mile
west of Newbridge, nearly at the bottom of
the steep slope which descends from White-
hill Nook to the river Hebden. The house is still
standing, easy to be recognised by its whitewash, and by the
yew-tree which grows between the door and the path
leading to Upper Hepton and Tommy Rocky's. Beside
the farm-house there is under the same roof a cottage at
the east end. In the field at the west end, and below the

* The circumstances of the murder and the discovery of the
murderer were collected with great care by the brother of a friend of
the author, now dead, and were communicated by him to the Hebden
fge Chronicle in 1S56. The papers of the compiler have been kindly
sent to the author, and placed at his disposal. The facts of this extra-
ordinary story were collected partly from individuals, now surviving,
who lived in the neighbourhood at the time, especially from one who
was a principal witness at the trial at York, and partly from docu-
ments. Of the latter the principal are a good report of the trial given
in the Leeds Mercury of Saturday, March 22nd, 1S17, and a confession
by the condemned parties, drawn up in the usual style of confessions,
and printed at Leeds for the purpose of being hawked about the streets.
The Manchester Mercury of Tuesday, March iSth, 1S1 7, gives a short
account of the trial and condemnation of the prisoners, and concludes
with a confession of the principal prisoner ; being a long verbatim
extract from the confession printed at Leeds for sale by hawkers. One
of the official books belonging to Heptonstall church contains a copy
of the charge of the judge to the jury at York, taken verbatim from
the Leeds Mercury of March 22nd.

246 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

house, stretching down to the stream, were formerly some
mounds, where it was said that the Heptonstall people
during the plague buried their dead. Crabtree says (p. 15) :
" Of that dreadful epidemic, the plague, one hundred and
seventeen persons are said to have died at Heptonstall in
1 63 1, several of whom were buried at home, but all entered
in the register there." In the old barn near the house,
pulled down a few years ago, since 181 7, an old man cut
his throat. The yew-tree is no inapt symbol of the melan-
choly associations of this secluded spot— a cemetery, a
suicide, and a murder.

Samuel Sutcliffe, commonly called Sammy o' Kattie's,
lived there to the age of eighty, a bachelor. He was a
manufacturer of worsted pieces, and for several years
farmed the small farm. The only person living with him
was his nephew, William Sutcliffe. On Saturdays, some-
times the uncle, sometimes the nephew, attended Halifax
market ; sometimes both. On Saturdays, towards evening,
the old man might have been seen crossing the old bridge
at Hebden Bridge, and calling at the " Hole-in-the-Wall "
to take a single glass of ale and hear the news, while he
gave himself a very brief rest after his walk from Halifax,
before passing on. He was a stout, active man for his age ;
sober, steady, and industrious ; and by economy, but with-
out penuriousness, had saved a considerable sum of money.
The cottage adjoining Sammy's dwelling was inhabited by
a weaver named William Greenwood.

For five or six years the nephew, William Sutcliffe, had
carried on a little business in the fustian trade on his own
account 3 and for two years he had the take of the farm, on
which he kept a couple of cows. His business led him to
travel into Lancashire, Craven, and even Westmorland.

The One-Pound Note. 247

His journeys were taken three times a year : he started on
Monday morning, and returned usually on Friday evening,
sometimes on Saturday. He left Hawden Hole on one of
these journeys on Monday, February 3rd, 181 7, and was
this time expected home on the Thursday night following,
but circumstances prevented his return till the Saturday.

The name of the murderer was Michael Pickles,
commonly designated " Old Mike." He lived at North-
well, near Heptonstall, on the road leading from Hep-
tonstall by New Bridge to Haworth. His cottage,
since pulled down, was of one story : it contained
two rooms — one towards the valley and the township
of Wadsworth, into which the door entered, formed
the dwelling or "house;" the other, trenching back
into the hill-side, was called the " shop," and contained
the looms. Some portion of the walls of the shop
are still visible. Approached from the road, Old Mike's
cottage stood a little below and a little beyond the
principal house now standing at Northwell. A small
garden was attached, in the walls of which are still to be
seen the recesses which contained Mike's bee-hives. The
plump-looking navel-wort, possibly introduced by him, may
be seen peeping from crevices in the walls. Like Hawden
Hole, Northwell has also its characteristic tree. The
sombre Scotch pine which stands prominently forward
in front of Northwell is in the corner of Mike's garden,
and is said to have been planted by him. He lived at this
cottage fifteen years. His age was forty-one. He is
described as a strong, broad-set, but not a tall man, with
rather dark hair, pale, cadaverous face, no whiskers, and
Luge rolling eyes. He was left-handed, his hands being
very large : he often made exhibition of the power of his

248 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

left hand in grasping and crushing anything placed within
it, in which exploit he surpassed all competitors. He had
a very large flat foot; his knees inclined very much
inwards. He had the reputation of being "double-
jointed," whatever may be meant by that term. His
occupation was sometimes that of weaving at Northwell,
sometimes of gardening for his neighbours, but more
frequently that of an out-door labourer in dry-walling, and
especially in constructing, of large stones, what is called
" weiring," for preventing the river-edge from encroaching
on the neighbouring fields ; for which his great strength
qualified him. He had the reputation of being light-
fingered. In dressing the gardens of his neighbours he not
unfrequently helped himself to some of the contents. His
house was generally very well supplied with milk in sum-
mer, which was considered to have been obtained by
milking the cows in the fields. Above all, he had the
reputation of stealing bee-hives, to which the fact of his
being a bee-keeper was a sort of cover. As a gentleman
was one night riding along the " Needless Road " when
not quite dark, he and his horse were suddenly startled, on
coming in view of the steep field stretching from that road
up to Northwell, by the sight of a strange figure moving
slowly and heavily up the field : it was Mike with his not
uncommon night burden, a hive of bees on his head.
Another gentleman, stopping late at Kebcote inn because
of the rain, saw Mike and a companion take shelter there
about an hour after midnight, the former being loaded with
the customary "hive-piche " on his head. In the floor of
his house, under the bed, he had excavated a secret hiding-
place for stolen goods, covered by a movable flag-stone.
The paving before his door had been raised by the earth

The One-Pound Note. 249

taken from this so-called " cave." Notwithstanding these
dishonest practices, Mike made a considerable profession
of religion. He was a joined member at Birchcliffe Chapel,
having, with his wife, received adult baptism. Whether he
was originally sincere in his profession and afterwards fell
away, is more than doubtful when we consider that, not-
withstanding his mal-practices, he continued to make great
religious profession. In conversation he would expound at
large the doctrines of Christianity. To approach him with
the view of holding short discourse with him on general
topics while he was gardening for you, was to incur the
risk of a sermon from him. He fetched milk from old
Sammy's at Hawden Hole, and was in the habit of sitting
and conversing with him, not unfrequently of reading to
him during the long evenings. They had been acquainted
many years.

Mike's accomplice was John Greenwood, a weaver,
a tallish, slender man, aged twenty-nine years, with lightish
hair, whose features gave the impression of a weak and un-
decided, rather than a depraved and wicked disposition.
His characteristic want of firmness rendered him the easy
dupe of any deeper adept in villany who might throw
temptation into his way. It is believed that he would not
have been connected with the murder but for the persua-
sion of Mike. His character does not appear to have lain
under any suspicion, although, as his confession afterwards
showed, he was already addicted to dishonest practices.
He and Mike married sisters. He lived in a cotl
attached to a remote farm in Wadsworth called Bog-e__ .
above Old Town, a little below the moorland prominence
called Tomtitiman from which so noble a prospect of this
district may be obtained. His cottage, now unoccupied,

250 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

forms the upper part of the building at Bog-eggs, being con-
tiguous to the farm-house.

On Thursday, the 6th of February, 1S17, "Joan o' t'
Bog-eggs " went over to Northwell to try to obtain some
money from Old Mike, saying that he was "pined." Times
were very hard just now, and doubtless there was much
suffering among the poor. Flour was selling at eight
shillings per stone, and meal at four and sixpence to five
shillings. Old Mike said that he had no money, but that he
knew of a place where they could get some. This was just
the sort of temptation in which Joan's weak principles
were likely to fail ; and Mike was exactly the sort of man
to attempt to turn Joan's infirmities to his own advantage.
Mike's plausible speech soon prevailed over Joan's
scruples ; and it was agreed that that night they should
sally forth and rob Old Sammy.

On Thursday evening, February 6th, 181 7, "Old Mike"
and " Joan o' t' Bog-eggs " were sitting by Old Mike's fire-
side at Northwell. The night was wearing late, and the
family had been sometime in bed. It was clearly under-
stood between Mike and Joan, that after waiting till the
hour was sufficiently advanced, they should sally out and
rob " Sammy 0' Kattie's." The hour agreed upon was
midnight. Mike was smoking his pipe, and thinking over
the circumstances of the intended burglary. Simple, un-
thinking Joan had fallen asleep under the influence of the
warm fire. At length the clock struck twelve, and Mike
aroused his companion, saying, " Come, it's time to be
going." They took with them Mike's gun, and left the
house, proceeding towards Whitehill Nook, along a field
called Adcock, which is to the left of and above the public
road leading to Whitehill Nook. They then travelled down

The One-Pound Note.

2\\

the steep rough wood to Ilawden Hole. Thrice Joan's
heart failed him as he thought of the possible conse-
quences to them both of the meditated robbery. Re-
assured by Mike's arguments, he proceeded to Old
Sammy's. Half-past twelve was the hour for the moon
to rise j but the night was cloudy, though without rain.
Arrived at the house, Joan is placed as sentry before the
door, with the gun in his hand, being directed to shoot any
person who should offer interruption. Mike, perfectly
familiar with the premises, took out a window at the west
end of the house. There was more than one window at
that end. He took out the larger one, being that nearest-
to the river. He then entered the house, and undid the
door, and opened it. Besides a lock, the door was also
fastened by a stout wooden bar placed across it, with the
ends inserted in holes in the masonry. Coming out of the
house through the now opened door, he fastened the door
of William Greenwood, the neighbouring cottager, by
placing the wooden bar across the doorway, and fastening
the latch to the bar with string. Probably they both
entered Sammy's cottage. Mike mounted the stairs into
the room where Old Sammy was sleeping alone. About a
month before, the old man had bought a small oak box, in
which he placed such of his papers and documents as were
of value, and most of his money. The box was placed in
a bucket which stood in one corner of his bedroom. Mike
secured this bucket, with its contents. Three cotton
pieces and four warps were also taken from the bedroom :
the pieces were marked by William Greenwood. A coat-
cloth, and a pair of shoes belonging to William Sutcliffe,
which wanted soling, were also taken away, and a new shirt
of Sammy's.

252 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

But old men sleep lightly. Before these things were
secured and got away, Sammy awoke. Sitting up in
bed to listen, he heard footsteps in the house. He
endeavoured to alarm his neighbour in the adjoining
cottage, and called out, "William! William! William!"
Fearful of being disturbed or detected, Mike approached
the bed and seized his old friend and companion by the
throat with his terrible left hand. Gripping him as in a
vice, he held him down ; nor did he quit his grasp till the
spark of life was extinguished.

William Greenwood was disturbed during the night. He
fancied he heard a noise in Sammy's house, but could not
be sure. He called out, but received no answer. He con-
jectured that the old man might be talking in his sleep ; at
any rate, he took no more notice of the matter, and fell
asleep again. The wind was very strong, and roared
terribly in the yew-tree. Probably the noise which he
heard was Sammy's voice calling out " William K the third
and last time. The silence which ensued was, as Mr.
Hardy eloquently described it at York, " the silence of
death."

I have a short document drawn up at Halifax for the
satisfaction of William Sutcliffe, on the 17th or iSth of
February, 181 7, that he might possess some account of the
manner of his uncle's last struggles, in which is recorded
the substance of what Mike confessed on the subject at
Halifax, February 17th. It is as follows: — "The further
examination of William Sutcliffe, of Hawden Hole, in Hep-
tonstall, who saith that on Monday, the 17 th day of
February, 181 7, Michael Pickles, the prisoner, told this
examinant that after he had entered the dwelling-house of
his late uncle, Samuel Sutcliffe, and had got into the bed-

The One-Pound Note. 253

room, the said Samuel Sutcliffe rose up on the bed and
called out, 'William! William! William!' on which the
said Michael Pickles seized the said Samuel Sutcliffe by the
throat, and heard no more from him, except that he
sobbed, as it was soon over with him, and he bore very
little. And saith that the cause of his asking the question
of the said Michael Pickles as to his uncle's death was to
know what his said uncle said previous to his death, and if
he suffered much."

Mike now descended the stairs, and greatly alarmed his
companion by telling him he was afraid he had killed
Sammy. Leaving the bucket outside the house, they made
off to Northwell with their booty — the cotton pieces, the
warps, the shoes, the coat-cloth, the shirt, and, above all,
the oak box with its contents.

Having arrived at Northwell, Mike deposited the cotton
pieces and warps in the hiding-place under the flag-stone.
Joan took the shoes. The oak box they at once burnt to
prevent detection, but preserved the contents. Mike told
his wife he was afraid he had killed Sammy, and she began
to cry. He also charged Joan to keep it a secret, even
from his wife, for his revealing it would cause them both to
be hanged. In dividing the money Joan contrived to take
advantage of his more crafty companion ; for he pocketed
one note unknown to Mike. Mike's " Confession " says
respecting the remaining notes — " John Greenwood took
the guinea-note, and gave me the two Bank of England
notes, and I gave him nine shillings and sixpence in silver,
which made it equal — one pound ten shillings and sixpence
each."

William SutclifTe in his evidence at York said that on
going from home on Monday, February 3rd, " he left his

254 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

uncle four one-pound notes and some silver, to pay wages
with in his absence. His uncle had also some notes of his
own; among others, one of Mytholm Bank, which had
been issued without the signature of Turner, Bent, and Co.
It was No. 63. His attention had been called to this note
on the 1 st of February (the preceding Saturday); his uncle
had brought it down-stairs in an old book : there were also
in this book another pound-note and a guinea-note " — in
all seven notes. William Sutclifle on his return said that
Sammy's three notes were pinned in a ready reckoner,
Now, on examining the house the following morning,
among some loose papers in the window down-stairs, there
were found three one-pound notes which had escaped the
notice of the robbers. These three which were left being
added to the four which Mike and Joan took away, made
seven notes. It would seem that Sammy had separated
one of William's four notes from the remaining three ; that
this note he had placed in his box up-stairs with the three
notes belonging to himself; and that thus his three notes
and one of William's were taken away, while three of
William's notes had been left in the pocket-book in the
window down-stairs. The note which Joan appropriated to
himself, unknown to Mike, was the unsigned Mytholm
note. Had this note fallen into Mike's hands, he would
probably have observed the danger arising from the circum-
stance, and destroyed the note ; but the ignorant and un-
suspecting Joan was not aware of the danger.

There was at this time a set of men in the Cragg valley
who went by a bad name. In order to shift the suspicion
of the murder and robbery from himself and Mike, Joan,
on his way home to Bog-eggs, instead of crossing the valley
at Foster Mill, travelled down towards Mytholmroyd, and

The One-Pound Note. 255

crossing the Calder at Carr Bridge, threw down the papers
and documents obtained from Sammy's box at Carr Green,
hoping thereby to induce suspicion that some of the Cragg
band were the robbers and murderers.

And now for the events of the following morning.
During the week Sammy had paid some money for work to
a man named James Greenwood, of Lobbmill ; but a
balance of four shillings was left unpaid. Before daylight
on Friday morning James Greenwood presented himself at
Sammy's door, having come for his four shillings. He was
surprised to find the door wide open. This excited his
fears that some mischief had taken place during the night.
He knocked at William Greenwood's door, stated the
suspicious circumstance, and desired him to come out.
On attempting to do so, he found that the door would not
open. James Greenwood then discovered (it was still
dark) that the door was fastened by means of the wooden
bar. It was now discovered that Sammy's house had been
entered by robbers through the window, and that he lay
lifeless in his bed. His mouth was full of blood, and
some had run out upon the bed-clothes. The empty
bucket was found outside the door. William Greenwood,
who had seen Sammy at half-past ten the night before in
good health, looked for the cotton pieces which he had
taken in the previous day, but they were gone. He observed
one footstep leading to the window which had been
removed. It was the mark of a bare foot.

There was great consternation in the neighbourhood as
soon as the murder was known. Mr. Thomas Dineley,
surgeon, of Hebden Bridge, was called in. He gave his
opinion that the deceased died of strangulation. It is
commonly said that he also pronounced Sammy to have

256 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

been strangled by a left-handed person ; but some persons
very likely to know most of the facts have no remem-
brance of this circumstance.

The papers and documents were found at Carr Green
early in the morning by Olive Heyhirst, who was going to
fetch milk.

Several persons expressed their suspicions to each other
that Old Mike was the criminal. A woman met him in
Northwell Lane on Friday morning. He said, " Have you
heard that Old Sammy's murdered ? " She replied, " If he
is, it's thee that's done it."

Mike afterwards confessed that the day after the murder
he could neither eat, drink, nor sleep, and was always
uneasy wherever he was. On Friday evening he went to
Heptonstall to be shaved. He was in such a state of
restless agitation that the barber had much difficulty in
fulfilling his office, and when Mike was gone out, the barber
said to some bystanders, " Yon's the man that's murdered
Sammy."

William Sutcliffe, the nephew, returned from his journey
on Saturday afternoon. A messenger had been sent to
expedite his return ; but he was not able to get back more
than a couple of hours earlier than he would otherwise have
done. He now privately made known to several neigh-
bours, and among others to Mr. John Sutcliffe, of The Lee,
that among the missing property there was an unsigned
Mytholm note. It had been entered by Mr. Barker, the
clerk to Turner, Bent, and Co., but was not signed by
them. Having been pinned in the ready reckoner, it
would show the marks of pin-holes. At that time several
firms near Hebden Bridge issued private notes of different
values. Messrs. Turner, Bent, and Co. issued both guinea

The One- Pound Note. 257

and one-pound notes, printed in black ink. Messrs.
Rawden, of Callis Mill, issued both guinea-notes and five-
shilling cards, printed in blue ink, and therefore called
" blue-backs." Mr. John Sutcliffe, of The Lee, issued cards,
value three shillings and sixpence, printed red. Mr.
Edmondson issued seven-shilling notes. Mr. Richard
Chatburn, of Sprutts, issued three and sixpenny cards.
Mr. Robert Sutcliffe, of New Shop, put out five-shilling
notes. Silver was very scarce just now; the smooth
shillings which had been current were being called
in by Government, and stamped ones issued instead of
them.

Monday, February 10th, Mike attended service at Birch-
cliffe Chapel. The minister, Mr. Hollinrake, during his
sermon made some strong remarks about the murder. His
text was Matthew xxiv., 43 — " But know this, that if the
goodman of the house had known in what watch the thief
would come, he would have watched, and would not have
suffered his house to be broken up." This smote Mike's
conscience so severely that he afterwards declared that, if
any one had looked him earnestly in the face, he might
have discovered that he was the man. An inquest was
held at Heptonstall ; and poor old Sammy's remains were
interred at Heptonstall church. Standing outside the
churchyard, at the east end, near the street, you may read
his epitaph through the rails : — " In memory of Samuel
Sutcliffe, of Hebden Hay, in Heptonstall, who died Feb-
ruary 7, 1S17, aged eighty-one years."

John Greenwood had a brother living at Luddenden,
named William. John went to him, and gave the un-
signed note into his hand. He then received the note
back again from his brother. This farce was enacted

s

258 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

between them to enable John to give an evasive answer to-
any one who should make troublesome inquiries as to how
he became possessed of the note. Joan now went to the
house of Thomas Greenwood, of Birchcliffe, and completed
the purchase of a clock from him, giving him in payment
the unsigned note, with some other money. Another
version of the story is that given by William Greenwood,
the brother, at York, viz., that " John Greenwood came to
his father's house on Tuesday, February nth, and on
going home, desired William to ' go agatards ' with him ;
when he told him that he had bought a clock of Thomas
Greenwood that came to forty-two shillings ; that he would
give him a note which the witness was to give to Thomas
Greenwood on John's account, and say that he had lent it
to John. This William did ; but he then began to think
that John had not come by the note in an honest
manner."

A woman named Betty Wadsworth, having had an
illegitimate child, had been disowned by her relatives, and
was now living " afore t' friend " at Rawholme with
another William Greenwood, commonly known by the
name of "Will o' t' shop." She possessed a chest of
drawers, which, to raise money, she disposed of to Thomas
Greenwood, of Birchcliffe, who in payment handed over to
her the unsigned note on Tuesday, February nth. The
same evening she went to the shop of John Hoyle, of
Woodend, to buy groceries, and offered the unsigned note
in payment. Hoyle refused to receive it, seeing it was
unsigned. She took it back to Rawholme. Wednesday
morning, the 12th, she sent it up to Thomas Greenwood
by Sarah, wife of "Will o' t' shop," complaining that
he had paid to her a note which was not genuine. Now

The One-Pound Note. 259

this Thomas Greenwood* was a weaver for Mr. John Sut-
clifife, of The Lee ; and on the day before Tuesday he had
received from Mr. John Sutcliffe, for wages, a Halifax bank-
note. Not being able to read, he was not aware whether
the rejected note was that which he had received from
William Greenwood, of Luddenden, or from Mr. John
Sutcliffe. Doubting whether he should be able to get a
good note from John or William Greenwood in exchange
for it, he decided to try The Lee first, and hope for a suc-
cessful issue of the experiment. He went immediately to
The Lee, and found in the warehouse Mr. Richard Aked,

* Greenwood is probably the most prevalent name in the neighbour-
hood. Out of 755 entries in a public register in the neighbourhood,
the name Greenwood occurs 4S times, Helliwell 34, Sutcliffe 33, Cock-
croft iS, Smith 18, Akroyd 15, Crabtree 15, Mitchell 14, Stansfield 13,
Uttley 13, Ilorsfall 12, Midgley 12, Gibson II, Taylor 11, Pickles 9,
Fielden 9, Gill 9, &c. We may here remark on the prevalence ol
patronymic names, which sometimes are really useful, however
inelegant, in a district where the same names recur so frequently.
Thus "John o'Abbie's" and "Joan o' Jim's " were the ordinary
names of two individuals who were each legally designated John
Stansfield. By how many useful variations is the name John Sutcliffe
represented ! To strangers this practice is the more puzzling from the
frequent use of abbreviations, such as Earn, Than, Lol, Abbie, Jooas,
Kit (or Katie), Joan, Tim, and Turn ; for Edmund, Nathaniel, Law-
rence, Abraham, Joseph, Catherine, John, Timothy, Thomas. There
was formerly a " Jimmie, o' Jamie, o' James, o'th Jumps." " George
o'my Gronny's " and " Will o' Nobody's " are bold specimens of what
may be done by the principle in question carried out with a little licence.
Not unfrequently, also, people are named from their residences, as
"John up th' steps," and " Old Ann o'th' Hinging Royd. " Bye-names
also become sometimes attached as if they were real family surnames.
If it were not personal, many singular instances might be given. Per-
sons are frequently unable, without some consideration, to recognise
the legal names of their neighbours. Upon the hillside at Jumps, near
Todmorden, I once asked a little girl who was her father. " Will o' th'
Jumps," she replied. "And who's Will o' th' Jumps?'* I ag.ii 1
inquired. "He's Ailse o' th' Jumps, fellie," replied the girl; and I
doubt whether she had any idea whatever of her legal surname.

260 Yorkshire Oddities and hicidents.

who was learning the business with Mr. Sutcliffe. To him
he gave the note, saying that Mr. Sutcliffe must have given
him an unsigned note by mistake the day before. Mr.
Aked took the note to Mr. Sutcliffe, who was breakfasting.
He at once saw that this note was the key to the discovery
of Sammy's murderer. He sent for some constables, and
meanwhile learned from Thomas Greenwood that the note
had come from " Joan o' t' Bog-eggs." James Wilson the
constable, sizer, of Hebden Bridge Lanes, soon made his
appearance, and with him three others — viz., George Har-
greaves, John o' Paul's (Greenwood), and John Uttley, com-
monly called John Clerk, being the clerk of Heptonstall
church. Mr. John Sutcliffe and Thomas Greenwood
accompany the officers to Bog-eggs, and Joan is appre-
hended. He declares that the note was paid to him by
his brother William. Joan is therefore set at liberty, and
William is apprehended at Luddenden, and taken to
Halifax in proper custody the same day. He is brought
before Thomas Horton, Esq., J. P. , at the justice-room,
Copper Street. He refuses to give any account of the
note, being afraid of criminating his brother, till Friday,
February 14th. On that day William Greenwood confesses
the hoax as to the passing of the note from Joan to him,
and back again. The same day Joan is re-apprehended,
and declares before Mr. Horton that he received the un-
signed note from Old Mike. William Greenwood is set at
liberty. Old Mike is looked for, but cannot be found, his
wife stating that he is gone off seeking for work.

Sunday, February 16th, Mike is apprehended at his
brother's at Cowside, near Blackshaw Head. He is kept
in custody at an inn in Heptonstall for the night. He
declared to the Rev. J. Charnock, who visited him, " I am

The One-Pound Note. 261

as innocent as you are ; I am as innocent as a chil 1
unborn."

Monday morning, February 17th, Mike was taken to
Halifax, before Justice Horton, with many other persons who
had by this time been apprehended on suspicion. (Some
had already been brought before Mr. Horton at Halifax.
As many as sixteen or seventeen persons in all were taken
up. Some of these confessed other crimes, being, however,
unconnected with this murder, as of stealing meal and
flour, and a gun from Handganroyd Mill, sheep-stealing,
&c. I believe that one or two persons were convicted of
sheep-stealing. The rest escaped, partly from the unwill-
ingness of the parties robbed to prosecute.) Mike is
confronted with Joan, and denies Joan's accusation. Joan
contradicts himself by some blunder as to the day of the
week and day in the month when he went to Old Mike's
to borrow money. Hereupon Mike appears to be cleared,
and is set at liberty. Joan's father comes to Joan, and
entreats him, if he knows anything about the robbery to
confess it. At length he yields to this persuasion, and un-
reservedly confesses all about both the robbery and the
murder. John Uttley, the constable, is in court, and
having a horse at the inn, he volunteers to pursue Old
Mike on his way back to Heptonstall. He overtakes him
in King's Cross Lane, walking quickly homewards, and
eating " sweet parkin." Uttley calls out, " You must
come back with me." Mike, off his guard, asks, " What !
has he been telling something ? " Uttley brings him
quietly back to the magistrates' room. Mike no longer
denies the crimes of murder and burglary. When he and
Joan were confronted by each other there occurred such a
scene of crimination and recrimination that it was foucd

262 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

necessary to place Joan in the cell (or cellar) until the
minutes of Joan's confession had been read over to Mike.
After Mike had confessed many circumstances connected
with the affair, the prisoners exchanged places, and the
minutes of Mike's confession were read over to Joan.
Both were now consigned to their cells.

Tuesday, February 18th, the prisoners were again before
Mr. Horton, but nothing new was elicited. They were
this day committed to York Castle. The same day James
Wilson, the constable, searched Mike's house for the third
time. His evidence at York is that " he found, concealed
under a flag, under the bed, three fustian pieces and four
warps, and some other articles, and above the fireplace a
gun. The cotton pieces were identified by William Green-
wood, Sammy's neighbour, wTho had taken them into the
house of the deceased and marked them ; the other
articles were identified by William Sutcliffe."

The Leeds Mercury of Saturday, Feb. 22nd, says that on
Wednesday, the 13th, the two prisoners passed through
that town, strongly ironed, on their way to York Castle.

The trial took place at York Castle on Friday, March
14th, 1817. The prisoners were arraigned on an indict-
ment of murdering Samuel Sutcliffe, and also on an indict-
ment of burglary. Both admitted the burglary; both
denied the murder. By the recommendation of the judge
they pleaded " Not guilty " to both indictments. No
fewer than 22 witnesses were taken to York, including all
the individuals whose names have been given above; with
Mr. William Sutcliffe, of Heptonstall, who made Sammy's
writings ; Mr. John Barker and Mr. Jas. Bent, of Mytholm
and Mr. Henry Sutcliffe, of Pendle Forest, <S:c. Mr. Hardy,
in a very eloquent and perspicuous opening, stated the facts

The One- Pound Note. 263

of the case. The names of the witnesses whose evidence
is given in the Leeds Mercury (Saturday, March 22, 18 17),
are William Sutcliffe, William Greenwood (the neighbour-
ing cottager), Thomas Dyneley, Betty Wadsworth, John
Hoyle, Sarah Greenwood, Thomas Greenwood, William
Greenwood, of Luddenden, Thomas Horton, Esq., Olive
Heyhirst, John Thomas, of Midgley, and James Wilson.
John Thomas " was a shoemaker, and received a pair of
shoes from the prisoner John Greenwood on the Sth of
February, which he delivered to the constable, and which,
being produced in court, were identified by William
Sutcliffe as the shoes which he had left in the house"
when he went on his journey. The other witnesses gave
■evidence agreeing in most particulars with the facts stated
above.

The remainder of the proceedings at York we give in the
words of the Leeds Mercury of Saturday, March 22nd, 1817.
" The prisoners being called upon for their defence, Michael
Tickles said — John Greenwood came to my house and said
he was pined, and asked me to go with him to Sammy's, 01
Hawden Hole, which I did, and he took the gun with him.
When we got to the old man's house, we got in at the
window, and we both went into the chamber where the old
man was. lie started up in bed when he heard us, and we
both ran away, and I never touched the man.

"John Greenwood said — The robbery was proposed by
Michael Pickles, for I did not know that there was such a
house — I had never been there in my life. When we got
to the house, Pickles went in at the window, but I staid at
the outside. I was never in the biggin' at all, but stood at
the shop-end all the time, and Pickles brought out all the
goods to me that he had taken out oi the biggin.' He then

264 Yorkshire Oddities a?id Incidents.

told me that he had taken the old man by the neck, and
was afraid he had killed him ; and I said, ' Surely thou
hast not hurt the old man ? ' Michael Pickles gave me the
gun to carry, but I tied my handkerchief in two knots over
the lock, for fear I should do some mischief with it. When
we got back to Pickles' house, he told his wife he was afraid
he had killed the old man; and his wife began to cry.
Pickles charged me that I should keep it a secret from
every one, even from my wife, for if I told I should be
hanged.

" Three witnesses were called. Two of them spoke
favourably of the character of John Greenwood. The third
stated that he had a wife and three children, but that he
did not know much about his character.

" His Lordship, in his charge to the jury, stated that
where two or more persons were jointly engaged in the
commission of any burglary or other felonious act, and one
of the party killed a person in furtherance of their common
object, every one of the party would in law be guilty of
the crime of murder. And it was necessary, continued his
Lordship, for the safety of society, that it should be so,
that associations in guilt might be as much as possible
prevented. If indeed an individual of any such party
should put a person to death to gratify his own private
revenge, and not for the furtherance of their common
object, in that case he alone would be answerable for the
murder. His Lordship explained that this furtherance
comprises all acts done to prevent or overpower resistance
and to prevent discovery. Applying this rule to the case
before them, his Lordship said that if the jury were satisfied
that both the prisoners had gone to the house of the
deceased for the purpose of committing a robbery, and that.

The One-Pound Note. 263

one of them, to prevent any alarm or discovery, had by
violence occasioned the death of the deceased, it would be
murder in them both, though one of the prisoners should
not have been within the house at the time, and should
have given no consent to the murderous deed, or even not
have known of its being committed. That a burglary had
been committed in the house was too evident to admit of
a doubt. It also appeared from all the circumstances of
the case that the death of Samuel Sutcliffe had been pro-
duced by strangulation, and it was admitted by Pickles
that he had seized him by the throat, and that when he
quitted his grasp he had reason to suppose he was dead.
If the jury were satisfied of these facts, and further thought
that Michael Pickles had committed this violence, not from
any personal enmity (of which there was not the least
proof), but with a view to prevent alarm and secure the
accomplishment of their design of robbing the house, it
would be the duty of the jury to find both the prisoners
guilty.

" The jury turned round in the box for a moment, and
then pronounced against both prisoners the fatal verdict of
'Guilty.' His Lordship proceeded, after a most solemn
and affecting address, to pass the sentence of the law, which
was, that they were both of them to be hung by the neck
on Monday until they were dead, and that their bodies
should be delivered to the surgeons for dissection.

" John Greenwood fell on his knees, begging for mercy,
and protesting his innocence of the murder.

" It is understood that since his conviction he has
acknowledged to the chaplain that he was in the house,
and stood at the foot of the steps with the gun.

u The sentence of the law was carried into execution on

2 66 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

Monday, March 17th, a few minutes after eleven o'clock,
and their bodies, after being suspended the usual time,
were delivered to the surgeons for dissection. The body of
Pickles has been sent to the Dispensary at Halifax."

1 1M.I

Benjamin Preston, Provincial Poet. 267

BENJAMIN PRESTON,

PROVINCIAL POET.

[HE subject of this memoir is no "oddity," and
as not being such should hardly find a place in
this collection ; but I have taken the liberty of
inserting him in this book as a very remark-
able man, whose poems deserve to be better known and
more widely read than they are at present*

Benjamin Preston was born at Bradford on August 10th,
1819. His paternal grandfather is said to have had talents
for versification of no mean order, but it is to be regretted
that his productions have been lost. An old woman,
upwards of eighty years of age, recited to Benjamin
Preston a few lines of a satirical poem called "The White
Abbey War," which she had known in her younger days,
and which had been composed by his grandfather on the
occasion of some disturbance that had taken place among
the inhabitants of White Abbey.

The father of our poet was in early life a hand-loom
weaver, and in many respects superior to his class. In the
Life of Dr. Steadman, pastor of the Baptist Church,

• "The Dialect Poems of Benjamin Freston." Saltairc : Abraham
Ilolroyd, HS72.

268 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

Bradford, is an allusion to a Mr. John Preston, a wealthy-
member of the congregation. To this person the poet's
father, who was left an orphan at an early age, was indebted
for such schooling as he had.

From Bradford the poet's parents "removed to a " fold "
called Waterside, situated about a mile and a half from
the town, when Benjamin was only a few months old ; to
him therefore Waterside had all the charms of a birthplace.
Near as it is now to the great centre of the worsted trade,
half a century ago it was a quiet and picturesque spot,
consisting of a farmstead with its outbuildings and three
cottages, tenanted, as such places mostly were at that
period, by weavers and wool-combers.

A few verses from a poem by Mr. Preston, entitled
«' The Olden Days," thus describe it :—

Far off, and faint as echoed echoes, comes
Back to my ears a streamlet's bubbling flow ;

While, bathed in sunshine, rise three cottage homes,
And close beside a farmstead, grey and low.

In front a garden blooms ; behind, a row

Of stateliest elms throw far their verdant screen.

A grove lies eastward ; to the west a brow

Slopes gently down to pastures broad and green,
Whence glances here and there the brook's unresting
sheen.

On the green walls that gird that quiet spot,
The bright-eyed robin shows his crimson vest;

And 'neath the lowly eaves of barn and cot
The dainty swallow builds her rustic nest.

When crowned with flowers, with fragrant winds carest,
O'er melting snows first came the dancing spring,

Benjamin Preston, Provincial Poet. 269

From deepest glen to mountain's wooded crest,
Joy spake in song, while larks on circling wing
Made the far realm of clouds with Love's own music ring.

I see ye still, ye kindly homely folks,
Peopling the world that perished long ago ;

There side by side ye stand, like forest oaks,
Shielding each other while the tempests blow

Of this world's wisdom little do ye know,
Nor do ye love its hard and selfish creed :

It is your daily wont in prayer to bow,

And how shall souls that cry " Our Father " breed
Strife among brethren, or forget a brother's need ?

The ploughshare glitters in the morning sun,
And young and old their cheery tasks resume ;

Abroad o'er broken fields the harrows run ;
At home the maidens ply the wheel or loom.

No envious mood, no dumb unthankful gloom,
Darkens the happy sunshine of their hearts ;

Toil is their lot, but not severe their doom,

For health and healthful sleep their toils impart,
And Love is ever near to sooth Misfortune's smart.

Fair these retreats, but fairer still to me

The human forms that bless my dreamy gaze ;

Dearer than hearth or homestead, brook or tree,
The kind, good people of the olden days.

Jiut ah ! the aery scene no longer stays ;
My early friends in vain by name I call ;

I tread on withered leaves ; my spirit strays,
Weeping thro' a lost Fden, where the Fall,
Like a down-rushing stream, has marred and ruined all.

270 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents,

Some few years after the removal to Waterside the fathei
left the loom and entered the warehouse of Richard
Fawcett, in whose service he remained seventeen years;
but his advancement necessitated a change of residence —
a sore trial to the son, who grieved to leave the "bright-
eyed robin" on the green walls, and the tall screen of
stately elms.

After a few years of town life and town schooling the
poet was bound apprentice to the father's employer, and
served six years in the trade of wool-sorting.

Soon after attaining manhood he fell in love and wished
to get married ; but times were bad, wool-combing was on
the decline, and the depression in the trade caused much
bitterness in the hearts of the workers, who thought it was
due to a coalition of employers.

It was then, in the sadness of hope deferred, that Mr.
Preston composed the following touching lines.

I have ventured, with the greatest hesitation, to relieve
the original text of some of its most perplexing provincial
spelling, for the benefit of readers who are not Yorkshire-
men. To give it as it stands would be to deny them the
pleasure of reading an exquisite poem. For the poem in
its original spelling I refer the reader to the collected
poems of Mr. Preston, published by Mr. A. Holroyd at
Saltaire.

I'm a weyver ye know, and half deead,

So I do all 'at iver I can
Ta put away out o' my heead

The thowts and the aims of a man !
Eight shilling a week's what I am,

When I've varry good work and full time j

Benjamin Preston, Provincial Poet. 271

And I think it a sorry consarn

For a hearty young chap in his prime.

But our maister says things is as well

As they ha'e been, or iver can be ;
And I happen shu'd think soa mysel',

If he'd nobut swop places wi' me.
But he's welcome to all he can get ;

I begrudge him o' noan o' his brass,
And I'm nowt but a madlin' to fret,

Or ta dream o' yond beautiful lass I

I niver can call her my wife,

My love I sal niver mak' known;
Yit the sorrow that darkens her life

Throws a shadow across o' my own ;
And I'm sewar when her heart is at ease,

There is sunshine and singing i' mine ;
And misfortunes may cum as they please,

But they niver can mak' me repine.

That Chartist war nowt but a stoap,

I were fooild by his speeches and rhymes ;
His promises watered my hoap,

And I long'd for his sunshiny times ;
But I feel 'at my dearest desire

Is with'rin' within me away,
Lik' an ivy-stem trailin' i' t' mire,

And deein' for t' want of a stay.

When I laid i' my bed of a neet,

And were given up by t' doctor for deead— >
God bless her ! — shoo'd come wi' a leet

And a basin o' grewil and breead ;

272 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

And I once thowt I'd out wi' it all,

But sa kindly shoo chatter'd an smiled,

I were fain to turn over to t' wall,
An' to blather an' sob like a child.

And I said as I thowt of her een,

Each breeter for f tear 'at were in't ;
It's a sin to be niver forgi'en

To yoke her to famine and stint!
So I'll e'en travel fortd thro' life,

Like a man thro' a desert unknown ;
I rami ne'er hev a hoam and a wife,

But my sorrows will all be my own.

So I trudge on aloan as I owt,

An' whatever my troubles may be,
They'll be sweetened, my lass, wi' the thowt

That I've niver browt trouble ta thee.
Yet a bird has its young uns to guard,

A wild beast, a mate in his den ;
And I cannot but think that it's hard — ■

Nay ! deng it ! — I'm roaring agen !

That the masters were hard and grasping at the time
there can be little doubt — the men were not altogether out
in thinking so ; but they were often unable to appreciate
the fluctuations in the market, and resented a lowering of
the wages necessitated by the condition of the market as
an outrage on their rights. When the condition of affairs is
as in Preston's poem of the " Short Timer," there can be
no question as to there being a wrong.

" It were misty, and frosty, and dark as a booit,
And so cau'd ye'd ha pittied a toad ;

Benjamin Preston, Provincial Poet. 273

When I heard to my thinking a leet little fooit
Pit-patting behind me on t' road.

Now at five or half-past of a cau'd winter morn,

I'd noa thowts of a comrade at all ;
Soa I stood till there coom up a bit of a bairn,

Like a peggy-stick airing a shawl.

" Halloo, lass," I sed as I tapped her at t' crown,

" Tha'll be doin' for t' river or t' kiln ;
What ar'ta, ya monkey, and where ar'ta boun' ? "
Seys shoo, " A short timer to t' miln."

" If that maister o' thine's ony childur," I said,

" I sud like 'em to march at thy back ;
But I guess if tha'd laid an hour longer i' bed,

That trade ud begin to be slack."

" Hey ! maister," shoo said, " I've heard t' governor swear
'At he's made nowt by t' trade for this age ;

And his horses and carriages nips him sae bare,
That he hardly can toil ta gi'e wage.

" Then he's bowt an estaate, an he's building a house,
I ! and t' cost on't noa mortal knows yit ;

If we pinch till our cubbords wean't pasture a mouse,
He can nobbut just stand on his fit.

" If we doan't work for little, we moan't work at all ;

And me gronfather said yester neet,
If it warn't for t' short timers 'at t' system 'ud fall,

And t' ploughshare come back into t' street."

I lewked off to t' end at that wizen'd owd bairn.
And I said, — " It appears like ta me

2 74 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

'At t' fact'ry, an' t' mansion, an' t' main o' t' consarn,
Is uphowden by midges like thee."

Here I parted wi' t' lass, and I cuddn't but laff,
Though I felt noan sa mich at my ease ;

For I thowt ta mysel, it's a sorry come off,
If we've built on sich fooitings as these.

It was probably about the same period of depression in
the trade that we may suppose Benjamin Preston lost his
sweetheart. Perhaps the most exquisite poem in his book
refers to this event : —

Some cokes warmed me knees wi' their dull red heat,

When I swallowed my milk and pobs,*
Soa close up to f fender I pulled my seat,

And I planted my feet on t' hobs.

Then leeting my short black pipe, I swung

Right back i' me owd arm-chair,
An' I sate watching t' reekf as it rose an' hung

Like a spirit i' t' midneet air.

Sister Mally an' t' bairns were asleep upstairs,

There were peace wi' that bleatin' crew ;
So I smoked an' I thowt o' my wasted years,

An' o' t' wark at were yet to do.

As I lewked at this life an' at t' life to be,

I said to mysen, " Tha ass —
Wi' comfort tha nawther can live nor dee,

For tha's saved nawther soul nor brass."

* Porridge. + Smoke.

Benjamin Preston, Provincial Poet. 275

Then some minutes passed over me, sad an' dree,

An' me thowts grew as dark as t' neet ;
When some drunken owd pals as had been on t' spree

Come singing like mad up t' street.

Wi' their hands an' their feet they kept beating time,

As their arms into t' air were flung ;
Eh ! an' t' words o' a godless an' silly rhyme

To an owd psalm-tune they sung.

Eh ! t' times 'at I've join'd i' that grand owd air,
When owd friends at me side were seen —

When life were a sunshiny holiday,

An' this wizen'd owd world were green.

I'd leet of a sun 'at has long since set,

I see t' chapel o' Primrose brow ;
An' what friends on a Sabbath-day there hev met

That for iver are pairted now.

They come an' they smile, an' away they pass,

But they alius leave one i' view —
A poor little fatherless country lass,

'At once sat i' t' singers' pew.

One calm summer neet, as we sang t' last hymn.

Shoo lewkt i' my face reyt hard,
An' her lips were white, an' her een were dim,

When 1 joined her i' t' chapel-yard.

An' shoo said to me, " Ben, I feel faint an' ill,

Tha nmn gi'e me tha arm, owd lad ";
An' she whisper'd some words that 1 think on still.

For they made me reyt proud an' glad.

276 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

Soa I helpt her wi' care over rail an' stile,

Till we gate to her garden door ;
Then shoo held me by t' hand sich a long, long while,

An' I saw her alive noa more.

Well, this world gets as cou'd an' as hard as steel,

An' at times I feel fain shoo's deead,
For shoo'd hard to work at her loom an' her wheel

For a morsel o' honest bread.

More nor twenty year shoo's been dead an' goan,

But wherever ma lot may be,
When t' house is all husht an' I'm left aloan,

She alius comes back to me.

I've wisht 'at I'd telled her by t' garden door

How deep were my love an' true,
For t' friends o' that orphan were few an' poor :

But noa matter — I think shoo knew.

Eh ! if iver I get ta yon place aboon —

Where I long i' ma heart ta be,
Just ta hear her once more sing that owd psalm-tune —

A'll be heaven o' itsen ta me.

I'd been sitting an' thinking o' t' past an' deead,

Till I saw not a spark o' red ;
Soa wi' feet like ice an' a heart like leead,

I scrambled up t' stairs ta bed.

Twenty years and more of town life began to tell upon
the poet's health. The close, air of the warehouse, the dusty
atmosphere, and the monotonous work, were all against
him. At one time of his life inflammation of the lungs,
at another a more serious illness, warned him to change his

Benjamin Preston, Provincial Poet. 277

quarters and his work. He bought a piece of land on the
enclosure of Bingley Common, and built a house on it, to
which he removed with his family in May, 1865.

As this spot is within ten minutes' walk of Ripley Glen,
a favourite resort for excursionists, Mr. Preston took out a
licence for the sale of beer, and opened a public-house.
Here from the upper portion of his grounds he casts his
eyes on varied and lovely scenery, with smoky Bradford in
the far south-east.

There the reader may make the acquaintance of the
"Burns of Bradford."

The specimens of Mr. Preston's poems, if given in his
own broad Bradford dialect, spelt in a way to reduce to
despair any man but an habitual reader of the " Fonetik
Nuz," would to most readers be unintelligible.

T' Sacred Drawer.

By t' dim red leet of a sinkin' sun,

Tenderly, tenderly, one by one,

Shoo laid out her treasures on t' chamber floor ;
Thrusting her face into t' cloaz of t' bed,
•• All on 'urn, all on 'urn here," shoo said,

" But my Johnny I niver mun lewk on more."

Scattered about o' that chamber floor,

Lakuns* an' little duds there they wor ;

Sad upcasten bits of a sunken wreck :
Baa-lamb an' trumpet, an' top an' ball,
Still as if t' deeath-stroke 'ad strucken 'urn all ;

Poor thing, ye'd a thewt 'at her heart 'ud breck.

* Playthu

278 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

Put by his trifles, his t' cloas repack —

Niver noa more will Johnny come back ;

For he cares nowt now for what pleased him t' best
T' eaglet when makin' his skyward spring,
Scatters wi' t' wiff o' his strong young wing

All t' feathers an' t' fur 'at 'ad lined his nest.

Under his hat as it ligs on f floor,
Summat shoo sees at shoo's seen afore,
An' it fassens her een in a dreamy stare :
Sunbeams 'at breetened a bygone day,
Breezes 'at long sin' have passed away,
They're tontlin' wi' t' curls ov his gowlden hair.

Music, an' sunshine, an' birds, an' flowers,
Gladden like playmates them few short hours,
That iver he spent out of t' hives o' men :
Poor little chap, how he sams 'um up,
Bluebell an' daisy an' gowlden cup,
But none i' all t' field 'at can match hissen.

Suddenly, sharply, wi' gasp an' start,
Back comes her grief to her cheated heart,
To darken her joy like a thunder-cloud :
Once more shoo sits wol her watch is done,
Once more shoo's weepin' alone, alone,
Wi' a snow-white face an' a snow-white shroud.

T' sound's in her ears o' that fallin' clay,
T' end comes at last o' that long, long day,
"When at midneet shoo lifted her voice, an' cried :
" Husband, aw, husband ! I can't lewk up,
Trouble has drained both faith an' hope ;
I cannot turn t' key wi' my bairn outside.

Benjamin Preston, Provincial Poet. 279

" T flow'rs he once gethered wi' childish greed

Faded as he did, an' droopt an' dee'd,

But spring call'd 'urn up again, one by one:
T soil on his grave has been dampt wi' tears,
Spring shower an' sunshine has fallen for years,

But Johnny sleeps on — yes, Johnny sleeps on."

Johnny sleeps long i' that barren clay,

But his mother's learned to wait an' pray ;

An' her sorrow's been changed for a solemn bliss
Neet after neet as some good deed's done,
Down from his hoam comes her little son,

An' leaves on her forehead an angel's kiss.

It is perhaps necessary to add one word of explanation .
[of a line in this poem — ■

" I cannot turn t' key wi' my bairn outside."

In the West Riding of Yorkshire it is customary to leave
the door of the house unlocked the night after a funeral,
and for seven nights after, that the dead may not feel as if
the dear old home was closed to him. Surely a little touch
of local sentiment — I will not call it superstition — which
expresses the warmth and tenderness of Yorkshire hearts
in their family affections.

END OF VOL I.

CHISWICK PRESS :—C WH1TT1NGMAM, TOOKS COURT,
CHANCERY I.ASE.

YORKSHIRE ODDITIES.

YORKSHIRE ODDITIES,

INCIDENTS, AND STRANGE
EVENTS.

BY S. BARING-GOULD, MA.,

author or "curious myths or thb middle ages,"' "Iceland: its scbses asd

SAGAS— THE BOOK OF WKKB-WOLVES," ETC.

1 There be such a company of wilful gentlemen within Yorkshire as there be not in all
England besides." — Abbot of York to Cromwell, 1556, Rolls House MS.

VOL. II."

jfouctf) (Pfcition.

JOHN HODGES,

24, KING WILLIAM STREET, STRAND, LONDON.

1SS0.

CHISWICK PRESS '. — C. WHITTIXGH AM, TOOKS COURT,
CHANCERY LANE.

INDEX TO VOL. II.

•:o:-

The Rev. John Hildrop, D.D. .

Mr. Wikes, of Leaseholme.

The Rev. Mr. Carter, Parson-Publican .

Job Senior, the Hermit of Rumbold's Moor

Nancy Nicholson, the Termagant

The Wooden Bell of Ripon

The Milkin' Time : a Craven Sung .

Old John " Mealy-Face " .

The Boggart of Hellen-Pot

The Rev. Thomas Brown, Poet of Lastingham

Jonathan Martin, the Incendiary of York

Minster

Robert Aske

Brother Jucundus

Yorkshire Recusants

Mary Bateman, Witch and Murderess

i

10

14
iS

25
96
100
102
107
1 ^j

T39
196

220
229
246

Yorkshire
Oddities and Incidents.

THE REV. JOHN HILDROP, D.D.

[HIS clever humorist was instituted to the
rectory of Wath, near Ripon, on April 13th,
1734. He had been a schoolmaster, then had
a small living in Wiltshire, and afterwards was
made chaplain to the Right Honourable Charles Earl of
Ailesbury and Elgin, who gave him the valuable living of
Wath on its falling vacant.

Dr. John Hildrop was of obscure birth, but he made his
way by his talents and the brilliancy of his conversation.
When he was in Wiltshire he had a thorn in his side, a
squire, whom he thus describes, with not a little bitterness
of feeling. " A scrubby branch of an ancient and honour-
able stock," Dr. Hildrop calls him, " who bears himself
high upon account of his honourable birth and title, and
never fails to exert an outward ridiculous superiority when-
ever he falls in company with wiser or better men than
himself. But he has heard that humility is a certain token

VOL. II. D

/

2 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

of good sense and true honoui, which he is resolved to show
upon proper occasions, and when the humble fit conies on
him, he will crack jokes with his footman, get drunk with a
hackney coachman, and bestow his favour on any pretty,
cleanly female, without inquiring into her quality ; but he
never forgets to resume his superiority whenever he is con-
versing with a man of real merit who cannot reckon so
many honourable grandfathers as himself."

Dr. Hildrop met this gentleman one day at dinner, and
in course of conversation mention was made of a certain
nobleman who had raised himself from obscurity to an
honourable place by his services to his country, and had
received in return a title.

The baronet immediately began to bluster and scoff at
the nobleman; "he insulted his memory," says Hildrop,
" with all those expressions of scorn and contempt which
fools of distinction usually pour out upon their betters."
The Doctor listened to him patiently, and then said : " Sir,
the advantages of birth and fortune, on which you set
so immoderate a value, are no man's merit, and are as
often the lot of a fool as of a wise man ; and whenever that
is the case, they are so far from doing him honour, that
they only serve to make him more egregiously ridiculous
by making his folly the more conspicuous. If poor Tray
could speak," he continued, pointing to a spaniel that
stood by him, " he might justly boast of a more numerous
train of ancestors than the greatest monarch in the
universe ; he might add, too, that none of them had ever
degenerated from the dignity of their kind, or disgraced
themselves or their family by base and unworthy actions ;
and yet he would be a puppy for all that. Now, sir, may
I ask you what you think of me ?"

The Rev. John Hildrop, D.D.

"You, sir?" answered the baronet; "you are a very-
worthy gentleman."

"Sir!" answered Hildrop," my birth was obscure. I
was born to no more than the meanest of my servants, but
by God's blessing on a religious education, an honest heart,
and a tolerable understanding, you see I am enabled to
support a decent figure, and to do a great deal of good with
thanks to God, who has enabled me to show benevolence
to my fellow-creatures."

Hildrop tells the following story of his presentation
to Wath : — " Once upon a time there lived in a certain
nation a man of true honour (the Earl of Ailesbury) and a
considerable patron, who, in the disposal of his favours,
regarded nothing but the real merit of the receiver. He
had long entertained very favourable intentions towards a
clergyman of great merit, who had lain so long buried in the
obscurity of a country village, under the insolence and
oppression of a wrong-headed country squire, that the poor
man looked upon himself as quite hopeless, helpless, and
friendless ; when all of a sudden this worshipful patron
surprised him with the presentation to a living of very
considerable value (Wath). The poor man, amazed at
this unexpected generosity, immediately waited upon his
patron with all those decent and grateful acknowledgments
which so uncommon a favour might be reasonably thought
to deserve. The patron cut him short with this rough,
good-natured reply : ' Sir, pray spare your speeches and
keep your compliments to yourself; you are under no
manner of obligation to me, for had I known a more
deserving man in England than yourself, you should not
have had it.' "

Hildrop, one Sunday preached on the text, " Righteous-

4 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

ness, temperance, and a judgment to come " (Acts
xxiv., 25), and the squire and his friends thought his
sermon was levelled against them. They were in high
dudgeon, and the squire about that time having received a
visit from an old friend of his father's, asked his advice
how to punish the vicar.

11 That is easy enough," said the friend ; u turn Arian.*

" Arian ! " exclaimed the squire, " what is that ? How
am I to do it ? "

" Well," answered the other, " it is the fashion now
among persons of distinction to profess Arianism. I will
get you a paper in which all their tenets and principles are
set forth and supported by such arguments as no doctor of
divinity can answer, let alone that smoky old parson who
has assailed you."

After a while Dr. Hildrop called, as he had an acquaint-
ance with the family, and was without the smallest suspicion
that the squire had turned heretic. After the preliminary
ceremonies and a short conversation, the Doctor began to
inquire after the health of a clergyman both knew, a
neighbouring vicar.

" I never see him," said the squire, loftily ; " have you
not heard that I am turned Arian ? "

" Arian ! " exclaimed Hildrop. " Heaven forbid ! What
do you mean ? What is an Arian ? v

"Nay," said the young squire, "I cannot tell you what
it is ; but I am told it is something which is not a Christian.
But I have a paper here which will unfold to you my tenets,
and my reasons for adopting them."

The Doctor ran his eye over the paper which the squire
produced from his bureau ; then shaking his head, he said,
" My dear sir, let me give you a bit of advice. You

The Rev. John Hildrop, D.D.

have mistaken your talents. Nature never intended you
to be a heretic. Change once more, and be a free-thinker.
In that character you may possibly shine, for you need be
at no trouble to produce tenets and reasons and arguments.
You have only to live merrily and act without restraint, to
banter and talk against religion if you can ; but if not, to
laugh at everything that you do not like or do not under-
stand, and never give a reason for so doing."

This proposal hit him ; it was quite level with his
capacity ; he bit at once, and ever after professed himself
a free-thinker.

Hildrop was one day in a coffee-house in London,
'•where was a very sprightly young fellow entertaining the
company with a great many unlucky jokes and flings upon
religion in general. An officer who sat near him at length
interrupted him — ' Sir,' said he, ' that God whose name you
have dishonoured, whose worship you despise, whose re-
ligion you treat with irreverence and contempt, is my
Creator, my Father, my best Friend ; and though I cannot
dispute for Him, yet I can fight for Him; and in His
name I therefore now demand satisfaction."

The Doctor was one day in company with a fellow who
boasted that he never would believe anything but what he
could understand. " Ah ! " said Hildrop, " then I think
you are likely to have the shortest creed of any one in
England."

Some of the anecdotes related by Dr. Hildrop are not
bad. He tells the story of a certain canon of his acquaint-
ance that he found him one Good Friday at home. He
had a cold, and could not go to church. Hildrop asked
him what he had been doing. " Meditating on fitting
topics for the day," answered the canon.

6 Yorkshire Oddities a?id Incidents.

" On what in particular ? " asked the vicar of Wath.

" Well, I have been thinking over these thirty pieces of
silver and their sterling value, and what they would have
amounted to at compound interest at 5 per cent, and had
been left to me."

The same canon when at college was rather slow of
learning. One day his tutor met him out walking. "I
wish, sir," said the tutor, "you would keep a little more at
home and read your Virgil."

*' Oh, Virgil ! " answered the young gentleman. " I've
no great opinion of him. He was a plagiarist. Why, he
stole the very first verse in his book from the Latin
Grammar."

When this hopeful person was given a canonry, some one
said, " I'm not surprised to see a man who has been all his
life a blunderbuss converted at last into a canon."

A Scottish doctor of medicine and professor of botany
and a Jew who taught Hebrew in the same University
were a couple of merry fellows and bottle-companions. As
they were rejoicing one night over a bottle of port, says the
doctor, " Rabbi, thou'rt an honest-hearted fellow, and I
dearly love thee ; but I should love thee better if thou wert
of my religion."

" Why," said the rabbi, " I fancy there is no great dif-
ference between your religion and mine when we come to
explain matters."

" Why ! " exclaimed the doctor, " thou art no Christian."

u Show me a reason why I should be one," said the Jew.

The Scotchman thereupon called for a Bible, and read
out several passages from the New Testament.

"Stay," said the rabbi, "this is no argument at all. We
Jews do not accept the New Testament."

The Rev. John Hildrop, D.D.

u Not accept the New ! " exclaimed the Scotchman.

"Then " with an oath, "I'll not accept your Old

Testament. It's all lies and nonsense."

Their arguments were at an end j they looked gravely at
each other across the table, burst out laughing, and the
doctor, taking the rabbi by the hand, said, " Come, we
are honest men and good friends. What is the good of
disputing ? Let us have f other bottle, and to pay."

They drank off their bottle and parted the best friends in
the world. " See here a controversy," says the rector of
Wath, " that had divided the world so many hundred years,
and produced so many thousand volumes, compromised at
once with no other consequence than f other bottle and to
pay. Could every religious dispute be so easily decided
we should quickly be of one mind, and all the world of one
religion."

"Another time I remember we were at a family club,
which was kept at the Bull's Head in the Borough, which
some people of more wit than manners, in contempt of our
family, used to call Calves' Head Club. One of the com-
pany began to talk about religion, upon which his next
neighbour interrupted him. ' Prithee, Peter,' says he,
' don't thee pretend to talk about religion ; I am sure thou
knowest nothing of the matter. I will lay thee a guinea
thou canst not say the Lord's Prayer.' ' Done ! ' says the
other ; and up he gets, and with an audible voice repeats
the Creed from beginning to the end without missing a
single word. Upon which his adversary, lifting up his
hands in great surprise — ' Well,' said he, ' I did not imagine
he could have done it ; but I fairly own I have lost my
wager.' And all the company gravely assented, but then
declared the matter must end there, as they were met to be

8 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

merry, and ' talking, especially about religion, spoiled good
company.' "

The rector of Wath was invited out to dinner one day.
After the first bottle the conversation turned on religious
matters, and the majority of those present began to scoff at
creeds, revelation, and miracles. Dr. Hildrop made no
reply, but passed the bottle, and when the company broke
up he rose and said, " Gentlemen, you may possibly be
surprised at my not having interrupted the conversation.
I would have done so in any other house, but it is a
point of good breeding not to contradict a man in his own
house."

He says — " I was once rallying a very pretty lady who
was smothering a favourite lap-dog with a torrent of kisses
and tender speeches. ' Fie/ said I, ' madam, how can you
bestow so many caresses upon that little beast, which many
an honest man would be glad to purchase at any price ? '
'Sir,' said she, 'I love my little dog because he loves me.
When I can meet with one of your sex that has half as
much gratitude and sincerity as my poor Totty, he shall
not find me insensible or ungrateful.' "

Dr. John Hildrop published several essays, all very
clever, witty, and deserving of being read. Some were
attributed to Dean Swift and Bishop Gastrel, as they were
at first published anonymously.

In 1754 he published, in two volumes, his " Essay for
the better Regulation and Improvement of Free-Thinking,"
his " Essay on Honour," " Free Thoughts upon the Brute
Creation," " A Modest Apology for the Ancient and
Honourable Family of the Wrongheads," " A Proposal for
Revising the Ten Commandments," " An Essay on the
Contempt of the Clergy" — a very able appeal for the

The Rev. John Hildrop, D.D.

restoration to the Church of the right of electing her own
chief pastors ; and the " Life of Simon Shallow, Esq."

His wife Sarah died, and was buried at Wath on Nov.
13th, 1741. Hildrop himself died, at the age of seventy-
three, on January 18th, 1756, and was buried in the
chancel at Wath. Judging from his writings, he seems
to have been a very earnest, pious man, gifted with
extensive reading, sound judgment, and dry wit

IO

Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

MR. WIKES, OF LEASEHOLME *

HE living of Leaseholme, in the North Riding
of Yorkshire, was held by three successive
generations of the Wikeses for upwards of a
century ; all of whom were men of literary
talents, popular preachers, great oddities — but much given
to the bottle. The first of the Wikes family who held the
living was a gentleman who had been captain in the army in
the reign of Charles I., and had fought for the unfortunate
monarch throughout the civil war. In one of the battles
he received a wound in his leg, which incapacitated him
from further active service, and the death of the king and
the supremacy of Cromwell prevented him from looking to
Government for promotion.

But on the Restoration Mr. Wikes cast about for some
berth in which he might spend his declining years in ease
and comfort. The living of Leaseholme fell vacant, and
he applied for it, remembering how his old friend the sea-
captain, Lyons, had obtained the bishopric of York from
Queen Elizabeth.

Captain Wikes was ordained by the Archbishop of
York, and given the living he solicited, King Charles II.

* "Anecdotes and Manners of a Few Ancient and Modern
Oddities." York, 1806.

Mr. Wikes, of Leascholme. 1 1

being glad to reward an old soldier of his father, who ha 1
shared his misfortunes, thus economically to himself.

Mr. Wikes also held the incumbency of Ellerburn, near
Leaseholme, and took service in the morning at Lease-
holme, and in the afternoon at Ellerburn, or vice versa.

One year, when the 30th of January fell on a Sunday,
Mr. Wikes marched off to Ellerburn for morning service,
with a pathetic sermon on the martyrdom of his royal
master in his pocket ; but on his arrival at the place he
found the clerk and sexton near the churchyard, with a
short pole in their hands, watching a domestic quarrel that
was going forward on the opposite side of the beck that
flows through the village. The parson asked why the church
was empty, and his subordinates were not in their places.
The clerk pointed across the beck, and bade Parson
Wikes " look and see a woman combing her husband's
head with a three-legged stool."

Mr. Wikes at once plunged over the brook, and striking
the husband with his fist, tore the furious pair asunder,
shouting, " Be quiet, you brute ! " to the husband, and
" Hold your tongue, you vixen ! " to the woman. Both
fell on him, and he had hard work in defending himself
from husband and wife. In the fray that ensued the yells
of the parson — " Peace, you monster ! Have done, ter-
magant ! Hands off, you coward ! Retire, virago ! " —
were mingled with the abuse and blows of the disputants,
till the absurdity of the whole scene burst upon them all,
as the crowd of delighted parishioners and neighbours
gathered in a circle about them, and they fell back
laughing, and shook hands all round.

But matters did not end here. When husband and wife
disagree, and a third party interferes, according to local

1 2 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

custom, all three are doomed to " ride the stang," whilst
the people shout and caper around the victims, chanting,
as they beat frying-pans and blow horns —

•• Rub-a-dub, dub-a-dub, ran-a-tan-tang,
It's neither what you say nor I say, but I ride the stang."

The parishioners insisted on the immemorial custom being
complied with, and Parson Wikes was made to sit astride on
the short pole the clerk and sexton had prepared ; two
others were provided for the belligerent husband and wife ;
and the whole village prepared to march in procession
with them. But though the parson sat complacently on
his pole, the husband and wife refused to submit to the
ignominious custom, and he armed himself with the pitch-
fork, she with the poker, and began to defend themselves
against the villagers. Parson Wikes was carried to the
scene of conflict, and the clerk and sexton, in their eager-
ness to join in the struggle, dropped him into the beck.
Then the villagers rushed upon him, swearing that he was
shirking his duty of riding the stang, and he had to stand
up to his middle in the water and fight them off. Armed
with the stick, which he whirled about him in single-stick
fashion, he rattled their heads and arms with it to such
good purpose that he was able to beat a retreat into the
church, where he rapidly vested himself in his surplice,
and placed the sanctity of the place and garb between him
and his opponents.

The crowd now poured into the church, and Parson
Wikes proceeded with the service, leaving a trail of water
up and down the chancel as he paced to the altar and
thence to the pulpit. Having prefaced his sermon with an
announcement that he took in good part the disorderly

Mr. Wikcs, of LcascJiolmc.

conduct and undignified treatment he had met with, he
preached them a moving sermon on the merits of Charles
the Martyr, and the ingratitude of the people of England
to such a virtuous monarch, and wound up with — " Let
those who feel the consequence of such a misfortune
deplore with me upon this melancholy occasion; but if
there be any among you (and I make no doubt there are)
who may have secretly wished for this event, they have now
got their desire, and may the devil do them good with it."
After which he made the best of his way home to his
rectory, and endeavoured to counteract the effects of his
dipping by moistening his clay within with hot punch.

14

Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

THE REV. MR. CARTER,

PARSON-PUBLICAN.

CANNOT do better than extract verbatim the
following account from a curious book entitled
"Anecdotes and Manners of a Few Ancient
and Modern Oddities, interspersed with Deduc-
tive Inferences and Occasional Observations, tending to
reclaim some Interlocutor)- Foibles which often occur in
the Common Intercourses of Society." York, 1806 : —

" The Rev. Mr. Carter, when curate of Lastingham. had
a very large family, with only a small income to support
them, and therefore often had recourse to many innocent
alternatives to augment it ; and as the best of men have
their enemies— too often more than the worst— he was
represented to the archdeacon by an invidious neighbour
as a very disorderly character, particularly by keeping a
public-house, with the consequences resulting from it.

"The archdeacon was a very humane, worthy, good
man, who had imbibed the principles not only of a parson,
but of a divine, and therefore treated such calumniating
insinuations against his subordinate brethren with that
contempt which would accrue to the satisfaction and advan-
tage of such as listen to a set of sycophantic tattlers culled
from the refuse of society. Besides, the improbability of a

Rev. Mr. Carter, Par son- Publican. 1 5

malevolent story generally renders it more current by
increasing the scandal ; and the world, like the pious
S. Austin, believes some things because they are impossible.
However, he considered that not only the conduct of the
inferior clergy claimed his attention, but also to have some
idea how far their subsistence was compatible with the
sanctity of their functions ; therefore, at the ensuing visita-
tion, when the business of the day was over, he in a very
delicate and candid manner interrogated Mr. Carter as to
his means of supporting so numerous a family — ever
thinking of this admirable hint to charity, that the more a
person wants, the less will do him good — which was
answered, as related to me by one well acquainted with the
parties, in nearly the following words : —

" ' I have a wife and thirteen children, and with a stipend
of ^20 per annum, increased only by a few trifling surplice
fees. I will not impose upon your understanding by
attempting to advance any argument to show the impossi-
bility of us all being supported from my church preferment.
.But I am fortunate enough to live in a neighbourhood where
there are many rivulets which abound with fish, and being
particularly partial to angling, I am frequently so successful
as to catch more than my family can consume while good, of
which I make presents to the neighbouring gentry, all of
whom are so generously grateful as to requite me with
something else of seldom less value than two or three-fold.
This is not all. My wife keeps a public-house, and as my
parish is so wide that some of my parishioners have to
come from ten to fifteen miles to church, you will readily
allow that some refreshment before they return must
occasionally be necessary, and when can they have it
more properly than when their journey is half performed ?

1 6 Yorkshire Oddities aft d Incidents.

Now, sir, from your general knowledge of the world I
make no doubt but you are well assured that the most
general topics in conversation at public-houses are politics
and religion, with which ninety-nine out of one hundred
of those who participate in the general clamour are totally
unacquainted ; and that perpetually ringing in the ears of
a pastor who has the welfare and happiness of his flock at
heart, must be no small mortification. To divert their
attention from these foibles over their cups, I take down
my violin and play them a few tunes, which gives me an
opportunity of seeing that they get no more liquor than
necessary for refreshment; and if the young people
propose a dance, I seldom answer in the negative ; never-
theless, when I announce time for return, they are ever
ready to obey my commands, and generally with the dona-
tion of a sixpence they shake hands with my children, and
bid God bless them. Thus my parishioners enjoy a triple
advantage, being instructed, fed, and amused at the same
time. Moreover, this method of spending their Sundays
is so congenial with their inclinations, that they are im-
perceptibly led along the paths of piety and morality;
whereas, in all probability, the most exalted discourses,
followed with no variety but heavenly contemplations,
would pass like the sounds of harmony over an ear in-
capable of discerning the distinction of sounds. It is this
true sense of religion that has rendered my whole life so
remarkably cheerful as it has been, to the great offence of
superstitious and enthusiastic religionists. For why should
priests be always grave? Is it so sad to be a parson?
Cheerfulness, even gaiety, is consonant with every species
of virtue and practice of religion, and I think it incon-
sistent only with impiety and vice. The ways of heaven

Rev. Mr. Carter, Parson-Publican. i 7

are pleasantness. Let " O be joyful " be the Christian's
psalm, and leave to the sad Indian to incant the devil with
tears and screeches. Now, to corroborate my remarks
upon cheerfulness as conducive to contentment, I will by
leave solicit so much of your indulgence as to hear the follow-
ing extract from the works of an eminent divine of the Estab-
lished Church : — "The Thirty-Nine Articles are incomplete
without a fortieth precept enjoining cheerfulness ; or you
may let the number stand as it does at present, provided
you expunge the thirteenth article, and place that heavenly
maxim in the room of it. Might not the Archbishop of
Cashel have been a sound divine though he added the
arch-stanza about Broglio to the old Irish ballad in praise
of Moll Roe? Or did the Bishop (not the Earl) of
Rochester's poems on the man-like properties of a lady's
fan ever impeach his orthodoxy in the least ? " '

" Here the archdeacon very candidly acknowledged the
propriety of Mr. Carter's arguments in defence of his
conduct, and complimented him on his discernment in
using the most convenient vehicle for instruction ; observing
that, although he might deviate a little from the plans
generally advised for the accomplishment of that purpose,
yet it bore no less authority than the celebrated Dr. Young,
who wrote a play (' The Brothers ') for the propagation of
the Gospel, the profits of which he consecrated to the
Society for Propagating the Gospel in Foreign Parts."

vol. n.

Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

JOB SENIOR,

THE HERMIT OF RUMBOLD's MOOR.*

iiOB'S mother was Ann Senior, of Beckfoot,
near Ilkley ; he was an illegitimate child. His
father, a man named Hawksworth, left him a
little money when he died. Job grew up a
spruce, active young man, very strong, and not devoid of
good looks. He was employed as a labourer by the
fanners round Ilkley ; but afterwards went to live at Whit-
kirk, near Leeds. He there fell into disorderly ways,
drank, and became careless in his dress and dirty in his
habits. Yet he was a good workman, and when he
returned to Ilkley he was readily engaged by the farmers to
plough, mow, and reap for them. He was a good fence-
waller, and being a man of prodigious strength, is said to
have used very heavy stones fo*r the purpose, and when
days were short he was frequently seen walling by candle-
light. Some of his walls are still pointed out, and the large
stones he lifted elicit surprise. In winter he employed
himself in wool-combing at a place called The Castle, near
Ilkley. It is related of hitn that he once laid himself down

• "The Hermit of Rumbold's Moor." Bingley : Harrison (n.d.)

yob Senior, Hermit of Rumbold's Moor. 19

on the combing-shed floor, and that some of his fellow -
workmen chalked out his figure on the floor. By this
outline he used to cut his shirts, the material being coarse
harden, sewed with strong hemp-string.

Job was at one time an hostler in the village, and a
person who knew him well at the time says that at this
period his dissipated habits made him the subject of many
a practical joke.

He was afterwards employed by the farmers at Burley
Woodhead; but as he became old and infirm, and
troubled with rheumatism, he could not work as formerly,
but did what he could, making no stipulations for wages,
but asking only for his board, and that his employers
should pay him whatever extra they thought his labour
entitled him to receive.

About this time he became acquainted with a widow
named Mary Barret, who lived in a cottage near Coldstone
Beck, on the edge of Rumbold's Moor. The widow had
a little garden and a paddock which, together with the
cottage, had been left her by her husband, who had taken
the land from the common and built the cottage on it. Job
thought if he could secure the hand of the widow the house
and hnd would be his for life. So one day he paid her a
visit.

" I'll tell ye what I've been thinking," said Job Senior.

" What hast a' been thinking on then, Job ? Out wi' it,
lad," said the widow.

'• Well, I've been thinking thou'st getting ou'd, and thou
lives all by thy sen i' this house. And I'm a young man ''
— (he was about sixty) — "and I lives all by my sen by yond
crag. Why should not thou and me make it agreeable to
live together?"

20 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents,

" Dost a' mean that I'm to take thee as a lodger ?" asked
Mary Barret.

" Nay, nay, lass ! " answered Job ; " I mean we'd better
goa to t' kirk together and be wed."

" I reckon I'm ower ou'd for that," said the widow. She
was in her eightieth year.

" I doan't know if tha be ou'd," said Job ; " but I knows
varry weel thou'rt bonny."

No woman's heart, not even in her eightieth year, is
proof against flattery, and the fair Mary blushed and
yielded to the blooming Job, and married they were.

" It's an easy gotten penny by the light o' the moon,"
said Job, looking over his domain.

Mrs. Senior did not long survive her second marriage.
She had a long sickness, and Job was kind to her in it.
"It's cou'd, Job," she said to her husband one evening
when he returned from his work on the moor. " It's cou'd
i' this bed, and I cannot feel t' warmth o' t' fire."

" Thou shalt be warm, ou'd lass, if I can fashion it,"
said Job. " But as I cannot bring t* fire nigher thee,
I mun bring thee nigher to t' fire." So he pulled up
a couple of flags in the floor beside the hearth, dug a pit,
and made the old woman's bed in this premature grave, so
that she could be close to the fire and comfortable, and if
she wanted a cup of tea, could put out her hand and take
the pot from the hearth.

" Eh, Job ! " said old Mary another day, " I think I'd
like summut good to eat afore I dies."

" Ah !" answered her husband ; " then I'll get thee a
rare good morsel, that'll set thee up on thy legs again,
ou'd lass."

So he bought a pound of bacon, roasted it, caught the

jfob Senior, Hermit of Rumbold 's Moor. 2 1

melted fat in a large iron spoon, and ladled it down his
wife's throat.

" It's rare good now, isn't it?" exclaimed the husband
as the old woman gulped it down. " Open the trap and
I'll teem (pour) down some more."

The old woman lay back in her hole and groaned.
"I'm boun' to die !" she said.

" Xay, lass ! take another spoonful first."

But the poor creature was dead. Job looked at her dis-
consolately for a minute, and whilst doing so the fat of the
frying bacon fell into the fire and blazed up. " Eh ! but I
musn't waste the fat," said Job. " If t' ou'd lass cannot
take it, why I mun eat it mysen. Ah ! it's varry good ; but
its hot. I reckon 't were too hot for her ou'd insides."

Job now thought that the house, garden, and paddock
were his own ; but he was mistaken. The family of
Barret, the first husband of Mary, claimed it and took
possession of the field. Job clung desperately to the
cottage and the potato-garth. One evening when he
returned from his work he found that the cottage had been
pulled to pieces. He had hidden some money in the
walls, and this was either lost or stolen. His rage and dis-
appointment completely disturbed his brain, and from that
time forward he lived in a miserable hovel he erected for
himself out of the ruins of the house, in idleness and
squalor.

His hut was like a dog-kennel ; to enter it he was
obliged to creep on hands and knees. Within it was
only large enough for him to lie down in and turn himself
about : it was thatched, and provided with a rude door, but
no window. The garden had contained fruit trees ; but
these he stubbed up, and instead planted the whole garth

22 Yorkshire Odd. ties and Incidents.

with potatoes. He made large unsightly ridges, and put in
a large quantity of seed, always planting for the following
year when he gathered his crop in autumn. In one
corner of his garth was a peat fire where he roasted his
potatoes. His custom was, when eating, to sit with one leg
on each side of the fire of peat, his little bag of oatmeal
before him; then with his staff he poked the potatoes out of
the embers, peeled them with his dirty fingers, rolled
them in his meal bag, and then ate them. He always
drank his water warm.

" Do you drink your water warm, Job ? " asked a visitor.

" Yes," said the hermit, " I reckon I does."

"And your butter-milk too?" "Aye, aye. Sithere."
And he poked two stone bottles out from the embers.

" I do it to clear my voice," said the hermit. " Now
thou shalt hear my four voices." He then got up, set his
face to the crag, and began a wonderful performance of
four voices — treble, alto, tenor, and bass. He said he had
picked up his " four voices " by listening to the choir in
Leeds parish church. He usually sang sacred hymns,
such as 'While shepherds watched their flocks by night,"
" Christians, awake," and the Old Hundredth. He went
about the country in winter, singing in four parts for money,
and his performance was sufficiently remarkable for him to
be brought to perform in public at the theatre at Leeds,
and in the Headingly Gardens and the Woolsorters'
Gardens at Bradford, where he stayed for weeks at a time.
He would sleep in any outbuilding or blacksmith's shop ;
indeed, he was so dirty that few people would like to have
given him a bed in their houses.

He used to walk leaning on two rough sticks, wearing a
pair of heavy wooden clogs on his feet, stuffed with hay, his

Job Senior, Her mi t of Rumbold 's Moor. 23

legs bandaged with straw. His coat was of many colours
and much patched ; his trousers were to match. He wore
no braces, but kept his trousers in position with a hempen
belt, part of an old horse-girth, which he buckled round his
body. A bag on his back was fastened at the front to his
belt. His head was adorned with a hat of the most
antique shape, without a brim, and stitched together wit?
hemp-string.

The condition of his skin, which had not seen water for
years, need not be described. His hair, once jetty black,
now hung in heavy clotted locks on his shoulders. His
eyebrows were back and prominent ; his eyes low-set and
watery. He wore a coarse beard, grizzled with age; and
very dirty. From his hat depended a tobacco-pipe, hung
by a string.

"Never," he would say to his visitors, " never take to
nowt, but whenever you can get a penny, felt (hide) it, and
let nobody know about it, and then they cannot get it from
you. Get all the brass ye can, and as soon as ye can buy
a bit o' grund like this o' mine, ye see, set it with potatoes,
and it'll keep ye. There'll be a peck or two to spare ; ye
can sell them, and so ha' brass agean. Are ye married?"
said the hermit to a young man who went to see him.

M No," answered the visitor.

'• Then ye are right there, young chap. Keep so. If ye
get a wife, ye'll see shoo'll be coming on wi' a family, and
then that'll take all your brass. I' th' first place, ye'll want
a house and furniture, and then there'll be rent and taxes,
and your wife '11 be always wanting summat for hersen or
the bairns. And beside, just look how more flour ye'll
want, and sugar, and soap, and candles. And look how
mony more potatoes ye'll want for them all to eat. Eh !

24 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

but they're the animals 'at eats brass. They say that
maggots eats cheese, and weevils eats cloathes, and mice
eats corn ; but wife and bairns eats brass, and it's t' brass as
gets cheese, and clothes, and corn. Nay, lad ! have nowt
to do wi' them soort o' cattle. And then — if th' wife takes
to bonnets and gowns, ye're ruined directly. Nay, nay,
grand is better nor a wife, and potatoes nor bairns. If
ye want to save your brass and snap up a bit o' grand, ye
munna be married."

Job's end came as he was on one of his singing rounds.
It is thought that some youngsters drugged his drink, in
prank, at Silsden, and the consequences were a violent
attack of English cholera. He got back to Ilkley, and
crept into a barn belonging to the White Sheaf Inn ; but
the landlord seeing that his end was near, sent for the
parish authorities, and he was moved to the Carlton work-
house, as he belonged to Burley. He died in the course
of a few days at the age of seventy-seven, and was buried
in Burley churchyard, near Otley.

Nancy Nicholson, the Termagant.

NANCY NICHOLSON,

THE TERMAGANT.

RS. NANCY NICHOLSON* was born at
Drax, in the county of York, on the 3rd day of
May, 1 7 18, and was the only child of the Rev.
John Jackson, vicar of Drax, by his second
wife. Mr. Jackson had a son by a former marriage, but he
was taken by his mother's relatives into Cumberland ; con-
sequently the daughter, Nancy, was the only child at home,
and from her infancy was indulged to a fault, and suffered
to grow up without restraint, so that she soon became a
terror to the other children in the school of which her
father was the master. \

It is curious that the child of a. schoolmaster should
have been suffered to grow to womanhood almost wholly
without education ; but such was the case. The following
extract from a letter written by her when aged seventy-four
shows how miserably her education had been neglected : —
"Dear Mrs. Wilson, — Your letter just came in time as I
whas thinking oi letting my land but if John Harrison

* "The Life of Mrs. Nancy Nicholson, who died August 6th,
1S54." Howden : W. Small. 1855.

t The Free Grammar School at Drax, where twelve boys are
boarded and educated from a fund left for the purpose.

26 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

will come and we can a gree I ceep it on if not I shall
let it Mr. Totton of Howden whants it and Taylors of
Asselby also 1 Ceep all land and Hosses while I see him
pray send him word to Come this week as I must have my
Patays up and also my stakes wants thashing."

Having naturally a certain amount of shrewdness, it was
mistaken for talent, and low cunning for genius. Being
indulged in every way, her headstrong will became in-
tolerant of the smallest restraint. She played with the
boys of the school, and acquired from them the coarsest
language, and throughout her life never learned, indeed
never attempted, to control her tongue.

When Miss Jackson was about twenty years old, the Rev.
John Nicholson, a young man from Cumberland, came to
Drax to assist Mr. Jackson in his school. He was at that
time a well-disposed, gentlemanly young fellow, who gave
promise of being a scholar and of use in his generation.
But Miss Jackson, who was not without some charms of
person, was the ill-omened star that was to blight his life.
Living in the house of her father, he was brought in daily
contact with her, and she exerted some sort of fascination
upon him. If two young people are brought much
together, they are sure to form an attachment, and it was
so in this case. Nancy concealed her evil disposition from
the usher, and laid herself out to catch him.

Mr. Nicholson could not be blind to the fact that Miss
Jackson was entitled to property on the death of her
parents, and it is probable enough that to a needy young
clergyman without interest, the chance of making himself
master of a competence may have had more to do with
his paying his addresses to Miss Jackson than love.

In the year iSio Mr. Jackson died, and perhaps this

Nancy Nicholson, the

event decided Mr. Nicholson to offer hie; hii

He was at once accepted, and the interes

secured for him immediately the vacant situa lot < ;

of the Grammar School. Shortly after the marrh^e he

also became vicar of Drax.

Mr. and Mrs. Nicholson were married at Drax I
in October, i3n,and she then became undisputed .
of the establishment. Her harsh and tyrannical disposi-
tion had now free scope to develop, and the first to fe.
was the mother who had encouraged her as a child. The
widow was soon obliged to leave the house, where her
daughter made it impossible for her to live in comfort and
tranquillity. The servants would not stay ; no fresh ones
could be induced to enter the house under such a mistress.
She was therefore obliged to do all the work of the school-
house herself, making the unhappy boarders help her in
cleaning the house and in washing the clothes. The poor
boys were scantily fed, and otherwise miserably provided
for.

Four gentlemen, including Lord Downe, were trustees
of the Grammar School at Drax, and made visits of in-
spection regularly every quarter. Nancy was always pre-
pared for these occasions. She had a clean cloth on the
table, a plentiful dinner provided, and a dumpling set
before each boy. But she took care to impress on each
boarder that the one who left the largest amount of
dumpling on his plate would receive a reward, and he
should receive a hiding who emptied his plate. " And,''
said Mrs. Nicholson, " let any boy beware how he looks
sad or dissatisfied."

Wlien these quarterly visits took place in the cold
weather, she had a large fire lighted in the school-room,

28 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

round whi-cn sne assembled the boys, and when the
trustees °ame in> sne would address them with — " Well,
gentlerrjen> and }'ou> ra)r lord, you see how saucy these
boys arej scarce one of them has eaten his dumpling.
An d capital dumplings they are, my lord and gentlemen ! "

When Mr. and Mrs. Nicholson had been married about
three years they took an orphan niece of Mr. Nicholson's
from Cumberland to provide for, and to this child for
several years she behaved with the greatest cruelty, until at
length Mrs. Nicholson's mother took compassion on the
child, and removed it to her own house. However, when
Mrs. Nicholson considered her niece capable of working,
she insisted on her return, making her do the work of a
sen-ant, and subjecting her to the harshest treatment.
The work was heavy, as she kept two or three cows,
besides pigs and poultry.

The schoolboys were compelled to collect her eggs, and
she caused them to rob the neighbours to obtain a greater
number. These depredations were not unknown to the
neighbours, but they good-naturedly excused the boys, as
they knew they were urged to them by Mrs. Nicholson.
She gave the boys a penny a score for all the eggs they
could bring. She would then say, " Now, boys, I have
such nice apples ; I will give you a good pennyworth of
apples for your penny ; do have a pennyworth." The boys
durst not object, and bought the apples. But still she was
not satisfied, but would say, " Come, I will play you a
game at push-pin for your apples, and I daresay you will
win." However, as may be supposed, they never were
suffered to win, so that she obtained eggs, penny, apples,
and pins also. She committed various other depredations
on the property of her neighbours, such as taking coals,

Nancy Nicholson, the Termagant. 29

corn, goslings — and, in short, anything that came within
her reach. One Sunday morning, while the neighbours
were at church, she made some of the boys assist her in
stealing a hen and fourteen chickens. These she confined
in a brick oven till the following morning, when she took
them to Selby and disposed of them in the market.

For many years she regularly attended Selby market with
her butter, which more than once was seized and taken
from her for being light weight. She employed the boys in
collecting rags, old iron, &c, all of which she took to
Selby, because she could obtain a better price there than at
home. It was in vain Mr. Nicholson remonstrated with
her on the disgrace her conduct brought upon him ; she
only replied in abusive language.

On Sunday mornings she was always remarkably late in
her attendance at church, generally entering in the middle
of the service, and her appearance was like anything but
that which became a vicar's wife, and formed a strange
contrast to that of her husband, who retained his care to
appear like a gentleman, in clean and well-brushed clothes,
and with scrupulously white cravat.

Nancy was neither clean nor well-dressed. For many
years she would not afford herself a new bonnet, until at
length her mother, being quite ashamed of her appearance,
bought one for her. But Mrs. Jackson made her give up
the old bonnet before she received the new one, being
convinced, if she had the chance, that she would put the
new one away and continue to wear the old one.

Mr. and Mrs. Nicholson continued in the school-house
several years, during which time they amassed a consider-
able sum of money, with which they bought various lots of
property in the parish, Mrs. Nicholson always contriving

30 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

to have her name inserted in the deeds as well as Mr.
Nicholson's, so that he could not deprive her of her life-
interest. One field which they purchased at Carlton she
had conveyed to her for her own use and disposal. This
caused great dissension between them when discovered by
Mr. Nicholson.

At length the trustees were obliged to interfere in behalf
of the school. They did so with the utmost reluctance.
All respected and pitied Mr. Nicholson, who was a good
Christian and a gentleman, and was prepared to discharge
his duty conscientiously. But it was impossible for him to
control his wife and make her treat the boarders with
ordinary humanity. She was a genuine Mrs. Squeers ; but
he was a very different sort of person to the Yorkshire
schoolmaster of " Nicholas Nickleby."

The trustees were obliged to insist on an investigation.
It was conducted with the greatest consideration for the
feelings of Mr. Nicholson ; but the investigation ended in
the school being taken from him.

" Oh, Nancy, Nancy ! " Mr. Nicholson would repeat,
" you have disgraced me terribly ! "

The humiliations he was obliged to undergo broke his
spirit, and his self-respect, which had battled against
adverse circumstances, gradually gave way. She used the
most insulting language to him, not only in private, but in
public, making the most odious insinuations, and bringing
the scarlet spot of shame to his cheek. The unfortunate
man Avas made to drink to the dregs the cup of degradation.
At last, maddened beyond self-control, he beat her with
his horse-whip. A friend, whose house was situated a mile
from that of the Nicholsons, has told me that his father
has often heard at that distance the screams of rage uttered

Nancy Nicholson, the Termagant. 31

by Nancy when in a passion with her husband. Their
quarrels became the gossip and scandal of Drax. Mr.
Nicholson at last, driven of an evening from his home,
would visit farmers, or sometimes the public-house, and
forget his humiliation in the society of his inferiors. On
these occasions he sometimes took too much.

When they lost the school-house the Nicholsons built a
new house for themselves on some ground they had pur-
chased at a place called Newland, near Drax, where Mrs.
Nicholson had full opportunity for keeping cows, pigs, and
poultry, her favourite occupation. But having no family,
she would not be at the expense of a servant, and soon
gave herself up to sloth and dirt, both in her person and
house.

She would rarely admit any visitors, and if Mr. Nicholson
occasionally ventured to invite a friend, she would either
offend the guest at the time (unless she saw her way to
gaining some advantage by him), or revenge herself on Mr.
Nicholson after his departure. And if Mr. Nicholson
absented himself from the house without her consent,
she always upbraided him on his return with the vilest
language, attributing the visits to his neighbours or tenants
to evil motives.

The following extract from the correspondence of a
young lady from Cumberland, a cousin of Mrs. Nichol-
son's, who was staying a few months at Drax in the year
1837, gives a lively picture of her mode of life at that
period : —

" One evening after tea my sister and I proposed, as we
frequently did, to walk out as far as Newland, to see Mr.
and Mrs. Nicholson. It was a delightful evening, ami a
pleasant walk we had. Chatting over bygone times and

32 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

talking about our future prospects, we soon arrived at the
little gate, through which we entered the back grounds
belonging to the house, and passed on into the kitchen,
where we found Mr. and Mrs. Nicholson seated by the
little window which looks out upon the road. As soon
as we had got seated and the usual salutations were over,
Mrs. Nicholson (who, by the bye, I must confess, however
little to my credit, was my cousin) began with saying,
' Well, Miss H — n, there is going to be a confirmation at
Selby to-morrow, and Mr. Nicholson will have to go with
the young people ; what do you say, will you go with him ?
You have never been at Selby, and it will be a nice
opportunity.' ' I certainly would like it very much,' I
replied, 'if you are going also. But how are we to go ? '
' By Langrick Ferry,' said Mr. Nicholson. ' We must be up
there by nine o'clock, and meet the packet. You can be
up by that time ? ' ' And who do you think is going to pay
a shilling a-piece to go by the packet ? Not I, nor you
either,' said Mrs. Nicholson, in an angry tone. ' And as
for Mary Anne, she has more sense than to waste her
money in that way.' I replied by saying, ' Oh, a shilling
is not much ; and as there is no other conveyance by
which we can get, we have no alternative, as we cannot
possibly walk it.' — ' No,' said she, ' we cannot walk it,
but there is a man who has a cart, and I am sure if
we could get a dozen to go he would take us at threepence
a-piece. There's plenty of lasses and lads who are going
to be confirmed would be glad of the chance. What, you
see, we should make three ourselves, and Mr. Nicholson
can speak to some of them. The man can put the
shelvings on, and we'll go rarely.' ' Who do you mean
will go ? ' said the clergyman. ' Do you think that I will

Nancy Nicholson, the Termagant. 33

go to Selby in a waggon, or Miss H — n either ? No, you
shall not bring me to that. You have made me give up
my horse and gig long since ; but, go as you will yourself, I
and Miss H — n will take the packet.' At this his amiable
wife got into such a rage, and went on at such a rate, that
to make matters up I was glad to give my consent to go
with her in the waggon, and Mr. Nicholson said he would
ask one of the churchwardens to take him in his gig.
This pacified her, and as we rose to take our departure,
she said she would see the man about the cart, and I was
to mind and be ready at nine o'clock, when they would
call for me with it. However, I could not bear the idea of
the neighbours around seeing a great waggon filled with
country rustics stopping at our door for me to go with
them, so I told her I would come up to their house by that
time, and we would go direct from thence. But she was
afraid I wanted to get off going, and it was not without
extorting a faithful promise from me that I would nt. ;
disappoint her that I succeeded in obtaining her consent
at last.

"The morning came, chill and gloomy, and I rose,
hoping it was going to rain, that I might make that an
excuse for not going. So I made myself ready, and takir.,
an umbrella, set off for Newland. I had proceeded as far as
a turn there is in the road, when I heard such a shouting
and hurrahing that I stopped to see from whence it pro-
ceeded. I had not long to look, for turning the come;,
the waggon appeared in sight, with about fourteen or
fifteen young people in it of both sexes, and Mrs. Nichol-
son in the centre, laughing and shouting as loud as the rest.
She soon saw me, and bawled out, ' Oh, yonder is Miss
H — n coming ! Stop the cart ! — stop the cart ! ' By this

VOL. II. D

34 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

time I had come up to them, but was trembling with shame
at the idea of going with them, and I felt vexed at the
predicament I was in. At length I said, ' I think the
cart is so full there is no room for me, and as the rain is
already falling, I would rather not go. So do not disturb
yourselves, for I will walk back again as quick as possible.'
' Oh, it's not going to be much rain, and you shall come,'
replied Mrs. Nicholson ; ' so make room for her, lasses.
There, Betty, you can sit on the edge of the shelves, and
Polly can take your place. Now, Miss H — n, jump in,
and let us be oft".' It was in vain that I made every
excuse I could think of. She appealed to them all, and
they joined her, until I was forced to consent, and off we
drove. I felt thankful that it was raining a little as we
passed through the village, so I put up my umbrella to
screen myself from view, pretending that my clothes would
get wet and spoiled.

" On we went, and after we had got through Drax the
young people and she indulged themselves in conversation
such as I had never heard before, and strove in vain to get
me to join them, or laugh at their low and obscene dis-
course. Mrs. Nicholson at length said, ' Come, lasses,
can't you raise a song ? We'll get her to laugh just now, I
warrant us.' They then inquired of her what they must
sing, and she told them three or four songs, all of which
they sang with all their might, she every now and then
asking me how I liked it. At last she said, 'Give us
some sea songs ; she comes from a seaport town, and will
maybe like them better.' So, first one and then another
was sung, but with no better success. At length I saw a
gig coming fast after us, and begged them to give over till
it got past. They a'l looked, and said it was Mr. Nichol-

Nancy Nicholson, the Termagant. 35

son. 'Oh, sing away ! Don't give over. Let them see
how we are enjoying ourselves. Don't stop for him,' said
Mrs. Nicholson. ' Come, go on — go on ! ' — ' No,' replied
some of the young people, ' we won't sing while Mr.
Nicholson is going past. Wait awhile.'

"Oh, how glad was I that they kept quiet while the gig was
passing, although she was urging them to sir.g all the time.

" Many other carriages passed us on the road, and they
sang and shouted loudly without regarding them ; but I
did not feel so mortified as I should have done had I not
been a stranger whom they could not know.

" At length we arrived at Selby, and I begged that I
might be allowed to get out at the entrance to the town.
But no. She declared I should not till we arrived at the
inn where the cart would put up ; and I was obliged to
submit. On reaching the inn many were the people that
stood looking at us as we alighted. I got out almost the
first, and Mrs. Nicholson was the last. I had then an
opportunity of seeing her costume in full. There she
stood, dressed in an old dirty print gown, so straight that it
was like a sack around her, and over her shoulders was
thrown an old scarlet cloak, very short, with three small
capes, the largest of which did not reach down to her
waist. Then the bonnet is beyond description, and the
cap beneath, with one plain muslin border that had not
been ironed, and sadly soiled. These, with a pair of great
dirty shoes that looked fit for a ploughman, over a pair of
coarse black, or rather brown, worsted stockings, with her
short petticoats displayed to full advantage, completed her
attire. And thus, with a great square butter basket hang-
ing over her arm, stood like some gipsy woman the
wife of the Rev. Mr. Nicholson.

36 Yorkshire Oddities a,7id hicidents.

" We then went to the inn, where Mr. Nicholson and all
the other clergymen were to meet the children, from whence
they would proceed to church, each at the head of his own
flock. We iound Mr. Nicholson in a room up-stairs with
some other clergymen. To these he introduced me as his
cousin, but none of them appeared to notice Mrs. Nicholson.
At last she said, ' Come, Mr. Nicholson, we have business at
the bank, and we will have time enough to get it done before
you have all to walk to church.' And bidding me come
with them also, she proceeded down-stairs, and left the inn.
Mr. Nicholson was dressed in his gown and bands, and no
one who was not acquainted with them would have thought
for a moment that she was his wife. However, she trotted
on before us with her basket, and I dare say we were
neither of us sorry that she did so. When we reached the
bank Mr. Nicholson's business was soon settled, and then
she said he had better go on to the children, or he
would be too late. ' Come, then, Miss H — n,' said Mr.
Nicholson, ' she can meet us at the church.' I replied, ' I
had better wait for her.' (I had been told that she was
jealous of almost every female that he spoke to, so I feared
if I went with him she might abuse me about it another
time.) But though I declined going with him till I was
ashamed, she insisted that I should go. Accordingly we
left her, and went again to the inn. The procession was
just walking off when Mr. Nicholson requested me to take
his arm, and we walked before the children of his flock to
the church. At the entrance we separated. He desired
me to go up-stairs into the gallery, as he would have to
remain below with the children. I was shown into a pew
in the gallery, and viewed the imposing and solemn sight
with reverential feelings. I thcught, how much it was to

Nancy Nicholson, the Termagant. 37

be feared, many were there that knew not what they did.
I thought of our journey to Selby; and then I wondered
why Mrs. Nicholson was not coming. Often and often did
I look to the entrance behind me to catch a glimpse of the
bouncing dame in the old red cloak. (She was then very
stout, being upwards of seventeen stones in weight.) At
length the service was concluded. I hurried down as fast
as possible, and, without waiting for Mr. Nicholson, went
out to seek her. After having sought some time, I spied
her in a spirit-shop. She saw me at the same time, and
called to me to go in. She seemed quite in good humour,
and asked where Mr. Nicholson was. I replied I had left
him in the church, having come out to seek her, as I
wondered she had not come according to promise. She
said she had been doing business all the time, but when
she had ordered some spirits here she had done, and
would then go with me to the inn, as it was time to be
starting for home.

" When we got again to the inn, and into the room
where we had been before, she inquired for Mr. Nicholson,
and was told he was in another room. She said, ' I sup-
pose he is tipsy ; show me where he is.' The waiter went
out, and she followed him, desiring me to wait until her
return. In a short time she came back, saying, ' Aye, he
is yonder, tipsy enough. He has been dining and drinking
wine with a set of them, and now he is laid upon a sofa,
and I cannot get him to stir. It will have cost him a fine
deal ; but he won't tell me anything, and what is worse, I
can't get his money from him, and he has a large sum in
his pocket. I expect the cart will be here presently, and
they won't wait for me. I suppose I must go, but if I
leave him, he'll be robbed. I never can walk home, and

2,S Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

besides, I shall have my threepence to pay. So I suppose
I must go. Oh, Mary Anne, do you go and speak to him,
and see if he will come. The gentleman with whom he
came has gone for his gig, and if he won't go with
him, and we leave him, he will be robbed, and perhaps
murdered.'

" ' Well,' I replied, ' I'll go and see ; but if he won't
move for you, I don't expect he will for me. But see,
there is the waggon with its live load at the door. For my
part I would rather walk all the way than go in that horrid
thing.'

" She went out, and I followed her down a short passage,
at the end of which we entered another room, where one
or two gentlemen were sitting. We found Mr. Nicholson
lying on a sofa. I went up to him and said, ' Come, Mr.
Nicholson, won't you go heme. The cart is at the door
waiting for Mrs. Nicholson, and she is quite distressed that
you would not speak to her.' He replied that he would go
directly the gig was ready. She then came forward and
said, ' Give me your money, or you will lose or spend it.'

" ' No,' he replied, ' I won't ; you shall not have it. Go
away, I do not want you here.'

" ' Well, then,' said she, ' may Miss H — n stop with
you?'

" ' Yes,' he replied, ' I shall be glad of her company.'
" ' No,' I said, ' I cannot stop, for I intend walking
heme, and it is time I was going.'

" ' Oh, you must not leave him,' said Mrs. Nicholson.

' He will get more to drink, and Mr. will not get him

home. He will be as stupid as a mule if he gets any more
drink ; so, there's a dear good girl, do stay with him, and
don't let him get any more drink, and mind and watch that

Nancy Nicholson^ the Termagant. 39

nobody robs him, and see that he does not lose his bands.
Now,' she said, addressing him, 'mind you do as Mary
Anne wishes you.'

" ' Yes ; certainly,' he replied.

" ' But/ I said, ' I shall have a long walk ; so I must go
directly.'

" ' No,' said Mr. Nicholson, ' you had better come with

us. I am sure that Mr. , the churchwarden, will be

glad to accommodate you with a seat in his gig. I will go
and ask him.'

" ' You'll get more drink if you go,' said Mrs. Nicholson j
' he is in the parlour below, and I'll go and ask him myself.
So promise me, Mary Anne, that you won't leave him, and
then I'll go content.'

" Just then the gentleman himself entered the room, and
Mr. Nicholson asked him if he could take this young lady
also. He said he could, with the greatest pleasure. Mrs.
Nicholson was delighted with this arrangement. She
charged me again not to leave him, and then hurried away,
and got into the cart, where the driver was grumbling at
having to wait so long.

" Mr. Nicholson, Mr. , and myself had a pleasant

chat until the gig drove up. We were soon wheeling along
the road, and overtook the waggon a short distance from
the town, Mrs. Nicholson bawling out as we passed —
1 Mind, Mary Anne, and take care of him ; don't let him
out of your sight till I come.' "

About this time they bought some more land, and, as
usual, Mrs. Nicholson wanted to have it secured to herself,
but he positively refused to hear of it. On the morning
when he was going to order the writings she endeavoured
to gain her point by a little coaxing. As she assisted him

4-0 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

on with his coat she said, " Come, Johnny, honey, I'll
give you a glass of gin for fear you get cold. It is such a
cold morning." And when she gave it to him she added,
" Now, Johnny, honey, you'll get these deeds made the
same as the others ? " " No, Nancy," he replied, " I shall
not indeed. I have been deceived by you too often."
This led to a torrent of abuse, before which Mr. Nicholson
fled. He went to Howden to order the writings, from
which, however, he excluded her name, an offence which
she never forgave him, and the loss of that land after Mr.
Nicholson's death was a constant subject of regret.

A small orchard was attached to one of their houses at
Drax, and at the end of the building was a plum-tree.
Mrs. Nicholson frequently cast a longing eye on the plums,
and as she was not on the best terms with the person who
occupied the premises, she determined, as the tree was not
within the orchard fence, that she would have the plums
for herself. Accordingly, by alternate scolding and coax-
ing, she prevailed on Mr. Nicholson to go with her early
one morning to assist in pulling the plums. "When they
arrived at the place she said — " Now, Johnny, honey, you'll
be like to get into the tree." He told her the consequence
of the act, and endeavoured to dissuade her from the
attempt, but in vain. She insisted on his climbing ; to
this he at length consented, and commenced pulling
the plums, which Mrs. Nicholson received in her apron.
While they were thus engaged the tenant discovered them,
and assembled several other people as witnesses. He then
ordered Mr. Nicholson out of the tree, and afterwards
summoned him before a magistrate for stealing the plums.

Mr. Nicholson felt keenly the disgraceful position in
which he had placed himself by yielding to his wife's

Nancy Nicholson, the Termagant. 41

solicitations, and upbraided her bitterly, declaring that he
should die of shame if he had to appear before a magis-
trate. Mrs. Nicholson advised him to feign himself ill,
and undertook to appear in his stead. Accordingly Mrs.
Nicholson set out, and met at Langrick Ferry with the
constable and witnesses, when the constable inquired for
Mr. Nicholson. She informed him he was so poorly he
would not be able to walk. The constable said he would
get a horse for him, for come he must. Having procured
a horse, he went to Mr. Nicholson's, who, finding he had
no means of escape, determined to go and endeavour to
come to some arrangement with his tenant when he arrived
at the ferry.

Having proposed to settle the affair amicably, the tenant
assured Mr. Nicholson that he felt no resentment against
him ; and if he would pay £5 for expenses he would
proceed no further. The money was paid, and the affair
settled, but much to the vexation of Mrs. Nicholson.
The tenant, however, generously proposed to spend the
five pounds, stating that he only wanted protection, not
profit. He accordingly ordered supper for all present,
and spent the remainder in drink. Mrs. Nicholson sulked
for some time, but at length joined the party, considering
that she might as well get all she could out of the £$ as
let them enjoy it without her.

After Mr. Nicholson refused to let his wife's name appear
in the deeds for the property he purchased, she saved up a
considerable sum of money unknown to her husband, and
with it bought some property at Rawcliffe. The writings
for this property she ordered to be made in her mother's
name, and thus revenged herself on Mr. Nicholson for
excluding her name from his deeds. Mr. Nicholson often

42 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

said it was his money which bought it, and they had fre-
quent altercations about it.

Her disposition for avarice seems to have increased, if
possible, with her years. Her mother frequently declared
it was impossible for anyone to live with her, and that
although Nancy was her only child, she (her mother) would
rather spend her declining years in the Union than in the
house with her.

In the year 1842 Mrs. Jackson died, leaving Mrs.
Nicholson the whole of her property for her own disposal,
and over which her husband, notwithstanding her marriage,
could have no control. After her mother's death she at
once resolved to keep a separate purse, being determined
that Mr. Nicholson should not squander her money by
his extravagance. She told him she would not ask him
for anything but the egg, butter, and fruit money, just to
provide groceries, Szc, and she would superintend his
house for her meat without any wage. But Mr. Nicholson
had to provide a servant, and he was bound to pay for
coals, taxes, butcher's meat, drink, and extras of all kinds,
without touching the profits of the dairy. She would
never let him have a single penny without insisting on its
return, but she was by no means scrupulous about helping
herself from his pockets when she had an opportunity,
and if he missed anything, she always persisted that he
had lost it.

As soon as she had got matters settled after her mother's
death, she wrote to her cousin in Dublin, desiring him to
come over and divide their land, which up to this time had
been a joint estate. But previous to his coming Mrs.
Nicholson took care to pay a visit to the person who occu-
pied the greatest portion of the land. She got him to

Nancy Nicholson, the Termagant. 43

show her all over the property, and point out to her where
the best land was situated, promising as he was an old
tenant that he should never be disturbed. Having obtained
all the information she could, she took advantage of her
cousin, who was ignorant of the different qualities of the
land, and she took care that no person should have an
opportunity of telling him till it was too late to retract.
When he came over to Yorkshire to accommodate her by
dividing the land, she laid her plans, and partly by pro-
mises if he gratified her in letting her have such and such
portions in her allotment, and partly by threats of dis-
inheriting him if he refused, she succeeded in getting
nearly all the best land laid to her share, and left him only
the same quantity of the inferior quality.

At the same time that the cousins from Dublin were at
Drax, another cousin, a widow from Cumberland, happened
to be over on some business of her own. Mrs. Nicholson
conceived the project of getting this widow to come and
live in Yorkshire, doubtless thinking she would be able to
make her useful, and, besides, she had a house unoccupied
at Drax, and thought she might find in this cousin an
eligible tenant. These circumstances induced her to
behave with tolerable civility to her visitors for a short
time, but her temper was so irritable that they could not
speak freely in her presence.

Her three cousins had agreed to depart from Yorkshire
together, and travel in company as far as Liverpool, and
the day of their departure was fixed, much to the satis-
faction of all parties, for she sorely grudged the expense ct
providing for them, and, as may well be believed, they did
not find themselves particularly comfortable at Drax.

Mrs. Nicholson had living with her at this time a great-

44 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

niece of Mr. Nicholson's, who was acting in place of the
servant whom she had discharged in a fit of jealousy.

The young girl had striven all she could, along with
Mr. Nicholson, to make the visitors comfortable, and used
generally to contrive during the day to have some eatables
deposited where she could have free access to them at
night when they went to bed, so that while Mrs. Nicholson
was enjoying her supper in the dairy, her visitors, thanks to
the young girl's kindness, were quietly enjoying themselves
up-stairs in their bedrooms.

Mr. Nicholson during the visit of these friends of Mrs.
Nicholson's had behaved with the utmost kindness and
cordiality towards them. On the Monday evening previous
to their departure (which was fixed for Wednesday), as
they were all walking in the orchard, Mr. Nicholson directed
their attention towards some fine geese. " Yes," he
repeated, as his visitors admired them, " they are fine
ones, and we will have one killed and roasted for to-
morrow's dinner, as it may be a long time before we may
all have an opportunity of dining together again." " No,"
exclaimed Mrs. Nicholson, " we will not ; they are not
your geese, they are mine ; and I intend to send them
to Selby market, where I shall get four and sixpence
a-piece for them." " Well, if they are yours," replied Mr.
Nicholson, " you will surely not refuse to have one of
them taken as a treat for your friends the last day they
will be here." "Yes, but I will, though," replied she,
" they care nothing about a goose, do you ? " said she,
addressing herself to them. Of course they answered
" No." " But," said Mr. Nicholson, " we must have one ;
and if you will not give a paltry goose as a treat to your
friends, I will buy one from you, for I am determined we

Nancy Nicholson, the Termagant. 45

shall have it." "Well, then," she replied, " I will sell you
one for five shillings." "No," he answered; "you said
you would get four and sixpence at the market, and I will
give you no more." After much altercation and debate,
it was at length agreed that he should have a goose for
four and sixpence, but he refused to pay the money without
a receipt, for he knew if he did not get one she would
swear him down he had not paid for it. At last a receipt
was written out and duly signed, and deposited by Mr.
Nicholson in his pocket-book. The evening passed over
pleasantly enough, and the visitors retired to rest not a
little amused at the bargain which ha 1 been ma le between
the husband and wife. Very different, however, were the
sentiments they experienced for the two indivi luals \ for
the husband they could not help feeling both pity and
esteem, but for the wife they felt nothing but dis0r 1st.

In the morning a scene ensued which it is difficult to
describe. The visitors were awakened by loud q urrelling
and angry and bitter words. They arose and we it down-
stairs, and found Mr. and Mrs. Nicholson almost at blows.
It was supposed that Mrs. Nicholson, after they had all
retired for the night, crept into her husbanel's room when
she was assured he was asleep (for at this time, and long
previous, they had occupied separate apartments), and
taking the pocket-book out of his pocket stole therefrom
the receipt for the goose; she then replaced the pocket-
book, and went quietly to bed. In the morning Mr.
Nicholson rose early to have the goose killed and dressed
in good time, and it was ready for the spit when Mrs.
Nicholson came down-stairs. When she saw it, she was
in a furious rage. She stormed and raved, and swore she
would have Mr. Nicholson taken up for theft. Just then

46 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

her cousins all came down-stairs and endeavoured to make
peace, but in vain. She declared she would have him
taken up, for the goose was hers, and he had stolen it.

" How can you say so," he replied, " when I have your
own receipt showing that I paid you for it ? "

"You are a liar! " she replied. "You did not pay for
it. You have no receipt. You have killed my goose ;
bat I will have you taken up, I will."

" Did you ever hear such a woman ? " said Mr. Nichol-
son, appealing to the company. " Is she not enough to
drive a man mad ? You all saw me pay for the goose last
night, and I can produce the receipt she gave me for it."

" You can't ! you can't ! I never gave you one, and you
shall pay me for my goose yet. Show the receipt if you
have it, you thief! "

Mr. Nicholson took out his pocket-book immediately,
thinking to silence her; but the receipt was gone. Find-
ing it had been abstracted from his pocket-book, he was
very much enraged, and accused her of having taken it.
But she did not care for that, and after some more angry
recrimination, Mr. Nicholson, for the sake of peace, and to
prevent the company from being any longer annoyed by
their disagreement, consented to pay for the goose a second
time, and it was then roasted for dinner.

After dinner was over she suddenly declared her inten-
tion of going to Cumberland to see some property she had
there, and also to visit her half-brother and his children,
whom she had not seen for many years. Another induce-
ment was her fear that her cousin would not return to settle
in Yorkshire unless she accompanied her on her journey
to Cumberland, when she could have an opportunity of
continually urging her to do so. She also thought she

Nancy Nicholson, the Termagant. 47

could travel cheaper in her cousin's company than alone,
for she always managed to lay pretty heavy on her com-
panions.

The plan which the other friends had formed of travel-
ling as far as Liverpool together was prevented by this
fresh arrangement, and one of the cousins was placed in a
dilemma by a little act of kindness on the part of the
niece, who had hidden in her box a few fine pears as a
remembrance for the children in Cumberland. Now, Mrs.
Nicholson had declared that she would not take any box
or trunk with her, and desired her cousin to bring down
her trunk to see if room could be made for the few things
she would require during her absence from home. No
time was therefore to be lost in removing the pears, which
the niece slyly effected by transferring them to her pocket
whilst her aunt was looking in another direction. Had
Mrs. Nicholson seen the pears in the box, she would have
had cousins, niece, and all indicted together for stealing
them.

On the Wednesday morning her cousin from Dublin, with
his wife and daughter, took their departure, heartily glad to
leave their inhospitable relative.

Mrs. Nicholson immediately commenced preparing for
her journey, giving a particular charge to her niece not to
let Mr. Nicholson get possession of the butter or apple
money during her absence, and to keep close watch over
him that he did not get drunk. Previous to her departure
Mr. Nicholson asked her to bring back with her into York-
shire his sister, who was decrepit and destitute, and depend-
ent on him for her support. She agreed to the proposal,
remarking if he would keep her he could do it cheaper at
home. But before she would undertake to bring her she

48 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

required a promise in writing from Mr. Nicholson that he
would refund all travelling expenses incurred on his sister's
account; remarking to her cousin that she would charge
him plenty, for she was not going to be at the trouble of
bringing the old woman for nothing; and she thought if
she proved good for anything, she might make her take the
place of a servant, if the niece left her, which she often
threatened.

Taking all these things into consideration, she promised
to bring her sister-in-law with her when she returned from
Cumberland. And now, all other things being arranged,
she began to contrive the most economical way of making
the journey. She proposed to take the packet for York at
Langrick Ferry. She could walk that distance very well,
but as her cousin had a trunk she advised her to hire a
cart which would take them all, for it would cost as much
if she sent the trunk by itself. Accordingly, a cart was
procured, they bade farewell to Mr. Nicholson, and pro-
ceeded on their journey. They got safe on board the
packet, and nothing particular occurred until they arrived
in York, about three o'clock in the afternoon, when Mrs.
Nicholson told her cousin that she knew a respectable
house in Lendal where they could lodge cheap. Upon
proceeding there they found very comfortable accommoda-
tion, and the cousin was much relieved by finding that the
landlady perfectly understood Mrs. Nicholson's character.

At this time Mrs. Nicholson's dress consisted of an old
mourning print dress, very thin and faded, and so scanty
for her corpulent figure that it was scarcely sufficient to
cover her under-garments, which were of a corresponding
description. Over her shoulders was an old black or
rather brown stuff shawl, bound round the edge with what

Nancy Nicholson, the Termagant. 49

had once been black crape ; her bonnet was an old fancy
straw, trimmed with black ribbon ; a cap to correspond ; a
large yellow silk handkerchief round her neck, and a large
printed apron tied before her, completed her travelling
attire. In the trunk was deposited a black stuff dress.
This along with the shawl she wore had been bought for
her by her mother thirteen years before, as mourning for
an aunt, and it had also served as mourning for her mother,
for whom she was then wearing it. In addition to the
gown, there was a black apron, an old vest, and an old
dimity skirt, which formed the whole of her wardrobe.
However, the idea of these treasures being in the trunk
made her very anxious about its safety in the various stages
of their journey. After they had taken some refreshment,
Mrs. Nicholson said they must now consider which would
be the cheapest way of getting into Cumberland. It would
never do to go by train. She knew there were fly waggons
travelling from York to various places, and they must try
and find them out.

Her companion acquiesced in everything she proposed,
having determined to humour her as far as lay in her power.
She had been led to make this determination by a promise
of Mrs. Nicholson's, that if she would remain by her she
would never forsake either her or her children.

They then proceeded about the town making inquiries
after the fly waggons to Thirsk or Northallerton. They
were directed from one place to another until her companion
felt quite ashamed, for she saw the people were laughing at
them. Mrs. Nicholson's irritable temper could not bear to
be disappointed of her cheap conveyance, and the laughter
of the people provoked her still more ; but her patience
was completely overset when in passing down one of the
vol. 11. E

5<D Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

narrow streets she heard a woman remark to a neighbour,
"What a fat woman!" She turned sharply round, and
abused her in no very elegant language. She told her to
look at her own ugly mucky self, adding a great many
abominable epithets, until she was almost exhausted. A
crowd was beginning to collect, who were much amused
with the scene, and it was with some difficulty that her
companion at length succeeded in withdrawing her from
their notice.

She had wearied herself with her fruitless attempts to
procure any other conveyance than the rails. Being in-
formed that the fly waggons had ceased travelling since all
the goods were forwarded by train, it occurred to her that
perhaps she might get conveyed cheaper by luggage train.
Accordingly she went to the railway station, and applied
at the offices of Pickford and other carriers, telling them
of her wish to travel by the fly waggons, but as they were
superseded by the luggage trains, she thought they might
take passengers along with the goods in the same way as
was formerly done by the waggons. The clerks and porters
told her they could not do anything of the sort; there
were regular government and passenger trains, and she
could not go by any other. She said she could scarcely
afford to travel in that way. and begged to be allowed to
go with the goods. But her labour was in vain, and much
to the satisfaction of her thoroughly ashamed companion,
she was obliged to relinquish her hopes, and return to her
lodgings, fatigued, dispirited, and abusing everybody she
had met with.

On the following morning she reluctantly consented to
take the train as far as Northallerton. When she arrived
there several hours were spent in similar fruitless attempts

Nancy Nicholson, the Termagant. 5 r

to procure a conveyance to Darlington. Finding her efforts
were useless, she began to consider that the expense of
lodgings would be incurred if they remained there much
longer, and she then determined to take the last train at
night for Darlington, at which station they arrived about
ten o'clock. Proceeding towards the town, they inquired
where they could get a decent private lodging, and were
directed to an old couple, with whom they spent the night
and next day till the conveyance they had chosen was
ready to depart.

They found the waggon was very heavily loaded, having
among other things several very long fir planks. There
was some difficulty in getting Mrs. Nicholson mounted, but
at length she got squeezed in, and reclining herself on the
planks endeavoured to compose herself to sleep. But what
with the jolting of the waggon and the confined space into
which she was squeezed being insufficient for her huge
person, her limbs became completely cramped ; and this,
with the excessive closeness of the place, for the waggon
wis covered with canvas, turned Mrs. Nicholson quite
sick. Reaching out her arms in the dark, she seized her
companion by the hair, and exclaimed, " Oh, I am dying !
Oh, do get the man to stop ! Oh, do, or I shall die in this
confounded waggon." In vain did her companion beg she
would relinquish her hold of her hair, telling her if she did
not release her she could not get to the front of the waggon
to make the man hear. The only reply was, " Oh, I am
dying ! Get a knife out of your pocket and cut the cover
open." At length her companion succeeded in disengaging
herself from Mrs. Nicholson's grasp, and scrambling over
the various packages in the waggon, attracted the attention
of the waggoner, who immediately stopped his horses, and

52 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

did all in his power to render the situation of the travellers
a little more comfortable. They arrived at Barnard Castle
about nine in the morning. Here the driver said they
would remain until noon, and then proceed to Brough.

Mrs. Nicholson told the landlady of the house where the
waggon stopped how ill she had been on the road ; that
she could not afford to travel by a better conveyance >
that she could not take any refreshment except a cup of
tea, and that she had plenty of eatables with her in her
basket. The kind landlady looked at her as if she
sincerely pitied her, and said, " Well, never mind, you
shall have a kettle boiled, and you shall make yourself
comfortable. I will charge you nothing for it." She then
showed the travellers into a neat little room, and said she
hoped when Mrs. Nicholson had taken some tea, and had
a little rest on the sofa, she would be able to proceed on.
her journey as soon as the waggon was ready.

After Mrs. Nicholson had taken tea, and rested about an
hour, she looked out of the window, and perceived a
church situated close to the end of the public-house yard.
They walked down the yard to look at it. A small swing
gate led into the churchyard, through which Mrs. Nicholson
proposed going for the purpose of viewing the interior
through the windows, but as she endeavoured to pass the
gate she fairly stuck fast in the gatestead. For some time
she could neither get in nor out, and she could scarcely
control her anger when she heard some children exclaim,
" Oh ! here is such a fat woman sticking fast in the church- |
yard gate ! * With some difficulty, and much merriment
on the part of the beholders, she was at length extricated
from her uncomfortable position, and they returned to the
inn.

Nancy Nicholson, the Termagant. 5 3

They arrived in safety at Brough, and as they intended
to proceed on their journey next morning, Mrs. Nicholson
consented to remain all night at the inn where the waggon
stopped, instead of going out to seek lodgings as before.
But in the morning she was very ill. She had been little
accustomed to exercise for some time before, and the long
and toilsome journey in the waggon had been too much
for her. She was unable to leave her bed all that day, and
often exclaimed to her companion, " Oh, I shall die here,
and it is all with that cursed waggon. But I am determined
not to go back in the same manner ; I would rather walk
every foot of the way."

A day or two recruited her strength, and with the
recovery of health she forgot her dislike to the waggon, for
they next proceeded by carrier's cart by Appleby to Pen-
rith. But here she declared her intention of finishing her
journey on foot, for what with lodgings and what with
travelling expenses, she said it was going to cost as much
as if they had proceeded direct by railway. The trunk
was accordingly re-directed, to be left at Coldbeck, in
Cumberland, till called for, and given in charge of the
carrier, with many injunctions from Mrs. Nicholson to be
careful of it, as it contained many things of consequence.

Both Mrs. Nicholson and her companion were strange
to the road they were travelling, but they intended if pos-
sible to reach Southernby that night. As they travelled
along, Mrs. Nicholson told her companion they would
have to pass through a village called Blencow, where she
said an old gentleman resided who had formerly been her
father's curate, and to whom she had once been nearly
married. She said she would like very much to see him,
but would not like Mr. Nicholson to know. They were

54 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

still a long way even from Blencow when night began to
draw on. She sat down by the roadside and cried
bitterly. " Oh," said she, " what a sad thing that I cannot
walk ! I used to think nothing of carrying my butter and
eggs to Selby market, and now I can scarce walk at all."
Her companion began to fear she would not get any
farther, when fortunately a light cart came up, and they
prevailed on the driver to take them on as far as he was
going, which was within a mile of Blencow. Here they
were set down, and, weary and fatigued, at length reached
Blencow. Mrs. Nicholson was unwell from over-exertion,
out of temper because she had not been able to do better,
and both of them were dirty and forlorn with being so long
on the road.

As they entered the little inn at that place the landlady
eyed them suspiciously from head to foot. The first ques-
tion Mrs. Nicholson addressed to her was the following : —
'*. Mistress, can we get a bed here to-night ? " — " Indeed,
I am sure you cannot," replied the landlady, "for we are
quite full." — " But," said Mrs. Nicholson, " we must have
one, for I can go no further ; so here we must stay. If
I cannot get a bed, I shall just sit up in this chair."
— " Really," said the landlady, who did not appear to
relish the look of her customers, " I cannot have any
one sitting up in my house." — "Well, then," said Mrs.
Nicholson, " you must provide a bed, either here or some-
where else, for I am not able to go farther."

The landlady then sent a domestic to inquire ior
lodgings, but returned unsuccessful, for a company of
Sappers and Miners who were then in that neighbourhood
occupied every place which was available in the little
village.

Nancy Nicholson, the Termagant. 55

Mrs. Nicholson declared her intention of remaining,
repeatedly asserting that the landlady was compelled to
accommodate them. But the landlady appeared to be
more and more anxious to get rid of them, and said she
could not be compelled to accommodate more travellers
than the size ot the house would afford. She then retired
from the room, and Mrs. Nicholson consulted with her
companion as to the propriety of calling on her former
friend, Mr. Richardson.

Her companion would rather have declined going, as
they both appeared so forlorn, and not having the trunk
with them, could make no change in their apparel. How-
ever, seeing that they must either make themselves known
to that gentleman or run the risk of being turned out, she
consented to wait upon him, and let him know that Mrs.
Nicholson was in the neighbourhood. Accordingly she
sought the landlady, to make inquiry where Mr. Richardson
lived. The landlady no sooner heard that gentleman's
name than she was all attention to her guests, and sent a
child with Mrs. Nicholson's cousin to point out his house,
which was at no great distance.

The old gentleman resided with a nephew and niece, and
when they heard of Mrs. Nicholson's forlorn situation,
they sent immediately to bring her to their house, an
treated both her and her cousin with the greatest kindness
and hospitality. The two old folks passed the evening
pleasantly in inquiring after various friends whom Mr.
Richardson had known when at Drax ; and Mrs. Nichol-
son's slovenly appearance was kindly attributed to the effects
of the long journey, and the necessity of leaving their trunk
behind them.

The visitors were invited to prolong their stay, but

56 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

although very grateful for the kindness they had received,
they were obliged to decline the invitation.

On the following morning the old gentleman's nephew,
Mr. Brown, engaged a light cart to convey the travellers to
Southernby, where Mrs. Nicholson's tenant, Mr. Ralph, re-
sided. Here they remained a day or two, and were treated
most hospitably.

Mr. Ralph conveyed them in his own cart to Park End,
near Coldbeck, where Mrs. Nicholson's brother and family
resided. The travellers received a hearty welcome and the
kindest treatment. On the day after their arrival at Park-
end, at Mrs- Nicholson's request, her nephew proceeded to
Coldbeck to inquire after the trunk. He brought the
trunk back with him, and informed them that it had been
carried by mistake to another person of the same name,
who had opened it, but finding it was not hers, she had fas-
tened it up again as well as she could, and said the owner
would find all right inside. "Oh, my apron, my good
black apron, I am sure it will be gone," exclaimed Mrs.
Nicholson ; " I wish I had never put anything into your
nasty trunk. My good skirts, too, if they are gone I'll
make them pay dearly for them." The trunk was soon
examined, and fortunately her precious things were all safe,
so that peace was soon restored.

They remained at Park-end about a week, and but for
the restraint her presence always inflicted on those con-
nected with her, the kindness they received would have
made the visit delightful.

Mrs. Nicholson's nephew took his aunt and her cousin
to the place where Mr. Nicholson's sister resided. She
explained to the persons who had the care of her the
arrangement which Mr. Nicholson had made for her future

Nancy Nicholson, the Termagant. 57

custody, and desired them to be in readiness to convey her
to Whitehaven when she was sent for. Both the old woman
and the person she lived with, who was a niece of Mr.
Nicholson's, seemed much affected at the thought of parting
with each other ; but the idea of joining her dear brother
seemed to console the old lady. Alas ! she little knew the
cheerless home that awaited her.

When they had arranged this business, they returned
to Park-end. Her nephew then took her to visit another
lady, an old acquaintance of Mr. Nicholson's, between
whom it appeared a rather close intimacy had subsisted
previous to Mr. Nicholson's removal to Yorkshire. They
received as usual a very kind reception, and an invitation
to remain.

Many sheep are kept in that part of Cumberland, and
this was the period for the annual clipping. At this season
they make a kind of feast with what is called there

" butter sopps." Mrs. S , the lady of the house where

they were staying, presented Mrs. Nicholson with some
of the butter sopps in a basin, requesting her to take them
to Mr. Nicholson as a present from her, jocosely remarking
that she would like to be within hearing when he was eating
them. Mrs. Nicholson accepted the butter sopps, and
promised to deliver the message.

Part of old Miss Nicholson's furniture was sold, and
arrangements were made for removing the remainder to
Yorkshire. Then Mrs. Nicholson and the old lady started.
It happened that part of the furniture of Miss Nicholson
had been bought by parties from Whitehaven, and a cart
was engaged next day to convey a sofa and a clock to
the abode of the purchaser. Mrs. Nicholson persuaded
her cousin to proceed in this cart to Whitehaven, at which

58 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

place her other sister resided. This lady was the com-
panion of Mrs. Nicholson when she went to Selby con-
firmation, and wrote the lively account of her visit which
appears in this memoir. Mrs. Nicholson's notable plan of
travelling in the cart with the sofa and clock was adopted.
The sofa was placed lengthways on the cart, so that the two
passengers when seated thereon travelled sideways. The
clock-case lay behind, with a basket containing the works
placed on the top. They proceeded along pretty well
until they were near a town named Distington, through
which they had to pass, when by some means the works of
the clock began to strike like a bell ringing, nor could their
efforts to stop it avail. With every roil of the cart
it went tingle, tingle, tingle, until the people began to
look out of their houses as they passed. " Come and
look," said they, "here is such a fat woman mounted
on a sofa, and they are ringing a bell and going to
show her."

This exasperated Nancy Nicholson to the utmost. She
swore and cursed at the urchins that ran by the side of
the cart, and the more furious she grew the more pro-
voking did they become.

When they arrived at their cousin's house at Whitehaven
her sen-ants were struck with amazement at her great size,
and exclaimed, " However shall we get her off the cart ?
We shall be forced to take her to the warehouse and bouse
her out with the crane." However, they managed to
assist her down without the aid of the crane, and she was
very soon made so comfortable that she forgot the vexation
of her journey through Distington.

Mrs. Nicholson, old Miss Nicholson, and a cousin who
was travelling with them, and to whom the reader is

Nancy Nicholson, the Termagant. 59

indebted for the details of the journey, were hospitably
received by the cousin at Whitehaven.

Mrs. Nicholson appears to have been still fearful that
her companion would not return with her, and therefore
determined to take her departure by the packet which left
Whitehaven on Saturday for Liverpool, and her cousin
arranged to accompany her. They had been informed
that the packet would start at two o'clock in the afternoon,
but just as they were sitting down to dinner a gentleman
called to say the packet was then making ready. Imme-
diately all was bustle and confusion. It was necessary to
convey down to the vessel not only the luggage, but Mr.
Nicholson's sister also, who was unable to walk. The
dinner was left untasted, but the kind cousin at whose
house they had been staying placed the meat and vege-
tables in a basket, and sent it after them, saying they must
dine when they got on board.

All their friends assembled on the pier from which the
packet sailed, and the sad farewell was followed by many
prayers for her who had been lured away from her friends
and home by what they considered the specious promises
of Mrs. Nicholson.

The travelling party now comprised Mrs. Nicholson, her
sister-in-law (who was quite decrepit, and could scarcely
walk even with the assistance of sticks), the cousin who
had accompanied her throughout the journey, and her
two children.

Soon after the packet left Whitehaven, it commenced
blowing pretty strong, and many of the passengers were
very sick ; amongst the rest, Mrs. Nicholson and her
cousin. The latter was nearly overpowered with sleep
after her attack of sickness, when she was aroused by

60 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

some one shaking her roughly. She immediately recognised
Mrs. Nicholson's voice crying out, " Oh, get up, get up !
Look at old Sally ! (meaning the sister-in-law) ; " only look !

She is eating all the mutton Mrs. D gave us." On

looking up, there was old Sally sure enough with the whole
shoulder of mutton in her hand, and gnawing away at the
middle of it, apparently with the greatest relish. " Well,"
replied her cousin, " I think she has spoiled it for any of
us, so she may as well enjoy it." — " Oh, but I shall want
some when we get to Liverpool," retorted Mrs. Nicholson.
" Sally, Sally," continued she, " you must not eat all the
mutton, you nasty old thing." — " But," said Sally, " I am
hungry." — " And so am I," said Mrs. Nicholson ; " but
who can eat here with the packet rocking about so ? I say,
Sally, put that mutton back in the basket. It is not yours ;
my cousin gave it for us. Put it back, I say ! " But either
Sally did not hear, or else she could not prevail upon
herself to give up the mutton ; so she continued quietly
eating away ; then Mrs. Nicholson got into a great
passion, rose up, and staggering towards old Sally, she
seized the mutton, and for some moments both parties held
it fast, Mrs. Nicholson at the same time abusing old Sally,
to the no small amusement of the other passengers, till at
length she succeeded in replacing the mutton in the basket.
As the packet pursued her course the wind continued to
increase, and as night approached there was every appear-
ance of a storm, but still no danger was apprehended.
Suddenly a crash alarmed all the passengers, and various
reports as to the cause were spread about in a few minutes.
Some feared the vessel was sinking, until the captain made
his appearance in the cabin to reassure the passengers by
informing them that there was no immediate danger.

Nancy Nicholson, the Termagant. 6 1

When poor Miss Nicholson saw him, she exclaimed, "Oh,
sir, is there any danger ? Oh, I have said my prayers these
six times ! Do you think there is any danger ? " The
captain endeavoured to assure her of their safety, when she
replied, " Oh, thank you, thank you ; I am glad there is no
danger. I am hungry," continued she, turning to Mrs.
Nicholson. " You think of nothing but eating," replied
Mrs. Nicholson, " and I am sure you have eaten far more
than your share ; and if you eat it all now, what are we to
do to-morrow, for you know it will be Sunday, and we can
get nothing then." This reflection seemed to have some
weight with the poor old woman, who looked sorrowfully
at the basket, but did not ask for any more at that time.

The captain made his appearance a second time, when
Miss Nicholson, as soon as she saw him, addressed him as
before: "Oh, sir, is there any danger? I have said my
prayers these ten times. Oh, do you think there is any
danger ? " Again he assured her of their safety, and again
received the poor old woman's earnest thanks.

When the passengers left Whitehaven they expected to
reach Liverpool by midnight, when they would have been
able to take the first train in the morning for Manchester.
The storm had caused some delay, and unfortunately she
had run against a loaded schooner, which had carried awav
one of her paddles, and in consequence the remainder ot
the voyage was performed without the aid of steam. The
shock which had alarmed the passengers was caused br
this collision, and the damage to the machinery of course
occasioned considerable loss of time.

It was late in the forenoon when our travellers arrived in
Liverpool, and having procured a cab, as Miss Nicholson
could not walk, they proceeded at once to the railway

62 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

station in Lime Street. To their dismay they found the
station closed, and on inquiry were informed that it would
not be open again for some hours. They were now in an
awkward dilemma, for Mrs. Nicholson declared her inten-
tion of remaining in the street until the doors were opened,
for she could not think of being at the trouble and expense
of removing her sister-in-law backwards and forwards in
vain.

Her cousin urged her to go to the nearest public-house,
as it would be disgraceful to remain at the doors of a rail-
way station for such a length of time on the Sabbath-day.
Her cousin felt herself degraded, as she had both friends
and relations in Liverpool, and was fearful of being recog-
nised. But entreaties and expostulations were all in vain.
Mrs. Nicholson seated herself and her sister-in-law on the
baggage, and took out the mutton and potatoes, declaring
herself right hungry, and they would have their dinners.
Drawing a knife out of her pocket, she cut from the shoulder
of mutton the parts her sister-in-law had bitten, and de-
livered them to her for her portion. She then cut some more
for her cousin's little boy, and offered some to her cousin
also, which she declined, preferring some bread and cheese
which had been deposited in another basket previous to the
dinner being put up. Mrs. Nicholson then shared out the
potatoes, settled herself down with the dish of mutton on
her knees, and commenced her dinner most vigorously, de-
claring the meat was very good, notwithstanding Old Sally
had mauled it so. Her cousin, finding all her efforts to
induce Mrs. Nicholson to leave the station were ineffectual,
was at length compelled to seat herself beside them, but
took care to place her back as much as possible to the
passers-by, nor did she venture to look round while they

Nancy Nicholson, the Termagant. 63

remained there, and thus, to her great satisfaction, escaped
recognition. Heartily glad was she when the doors opened;
in a few minutes they obtained their tickets, and were
soon on their way to Manchester. On their arrival they
alighted from the train, not being certain that they could
proceed any further that night, and their movements being
very slow, the train started off again before they got fresh
tickets. After the train had departed and the crowd dis-
persed, the party proceeded to the waiting-room to con-
sult about procuring lodgings for the night, when Mrs.
Nicholson settled the point by declaring she would not
leave the station. They were still in the midst of their dis-
cussion when some of the company's servants entered the
waiting-room, and curtly informed them it was necessary to
depart, as the last train had gone, and they wanted to
close the station. But Mrs. Nicholson told them the
train had gone off and left them, as that old woman,
pointing to her sister-in-law, was unable to walk ; and if
she was removed from the station that night they would
not be able to get her there again in time for the morning
train. They replied that there was an hotel close to the
doors of the station where they might all be accom-
modated, and being so near, the old woman could be
brought to the train in the morning without much difficulty.
"Oh," replied Mrs. Nicholson, "do, if you please, my
good man, let us remain here ; we would rather remain
here than go anywhere else. We will give you a trifle to
let us stop where we are, for we cannot afford to pay for
our beds. But we will give you something if you will let
us stop here ; we can sleep on the long settle." ,l Well,
poor woman," replied the kind-hearted man, evidently
touched with pity, u I cannot give you leave to Stay,

64 Yorkshire Oddities and I?icidents.

neither can I accept anything from you ; but I will
acquaint the master, and see what I can do for you." He
accordingly departed, and in a little time returned, saying
it was quite contrary to their rules to permit anyone to
remain in the station all night. However, as their, case
was so pitiful, and they had missed the train, they would
be allowed to remain till morning. He then kindly offered
to make a fire, which, however, Mrs. Nicholson declined,
but thanked him heartily for his kindness. She said if he
would only permit the gaslight to remain burning, it would
be all they would require. He granted her request, and
very kindly bade them good-night, and shut the door.

The travellers then endeavoured to compose themselves
to rest, Mrs. Nicholson exulting in her success in obtaining
leave to remain at the station, whereby they would save the
expense of lodgings. Fortunately a pair of pillows be-
longing to the cousin were corded on the top of one of
their trunks. They were accidentally omitted when the
other portion of her furniture was packed off, and they now
proved extremely useful. The cords were speedily untied,
and Mrs. Nicholson and her sister-in-law each took a
pillow, and laid down on the long seats of the waiting-
room. Her cousin and her children, with the help of
sundry bundles, followed their example, and wrapping
themselves in shawls and cloaks, were soon settled down,
and prepared for a sound sleep after the fatigues of the
day.

On the following morning they took tickets for Selby,
where they arrived safely without any further adventures,
and returned to Drax in the evening by the carrier's cart,
after being absent from home about a month.

Mr. Nicholson received his poor old sister very kindly,

I

Nancy Nicholson, the Termagant. 65

but looked rather coldly at Mrs. Nicholson. As she hap-
pened to be in her very best humour, she inquired the
cause of his looking so strange, when he at once accused
her with having been to visit her former lover, Mr.
Richardson.

It appeared that about a fortnight after Mrs. Nicholson's
departure from Blencow, Mr. Richardson had written a
friendly letter to Mr. Nicholson, expressing the pleasure he
had felt at seeing Mrs. Nicholson, and hoping she had
arrived safely at home ; but at the same time he staled his
conviction that from her appearance she was decidedly
dropsical, and he strongly urged Mr. Nicholson to procure
medical advice for her immediately. He concluded his
letter by hoping that his remarks would be received by
Mr. Nicholson in the same friendly feeling by which
they were dictated ; but it appears that Mr. Nicholson put
a very different construction on them. He considered his
wife's visit to Mr. Richardson very improper, and he
upbraided her for it in very strong terms. So, by way of
retaliation, she produced the butter sopps which had been
sent to him by his former friend, Mrs. S , and up-
braided him in terms as bitter as his own. She reproached

him with Mrs. S 's audacity in sending him a present

by his wife, and her impudence in wishing to be near him
when he was eating what she had sent ; but she hoped he
would choke with the first mouthful he tasted. However,
he ventured to try them, notwithstanding her kind wish,
and he declared they were excellent. This enraged her
still more, and the first evening of her return was ren-
dered miserable with quarrelling and angry recrimination.
Little did the good friends in Cumberland imagine the
construction which would be put on their kind intentions.
vol. :;. f

66 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

Shortly afterwards Mrs. Nicholson had some business to
transact at Eastrington, and invited her cousin to accom-
pany her. Having business also at Selby, they went that
way, and from thence to Cliffe, from wThich place Mrs.
Nicholson's tenant conveyed her to Eastrington. They
were obliged to walk home again from Eastrington, but
Mrs. Nicholson was completely exhausted by the time she
had got to Howden, and declared she could not proceed
any further that night, and must therefore seek a lodging
in the town. They were both strangers in Howden, but
Mrs. Nicholson said she had been informed that there was
a respectable lodging-house somewhere in Pinfold Street.
After many inquiries they succeeded in finding the house,
but were informed it was quite full. " Oh, dear," said Mrs.
Nicholson, " whatever shall I do ; I cannot go much further
to-night." A decent-looking elderly woman who wras in
the house at the time said she could accommodate them,
and Mrs. Nicholson, after bargaining for the price, agreed
to accompany her, hoping it was not far off. They followed
their conductor into Hailgate, Mrs. Nicholson grumbling
hard at the length of the way. On they went, however,
but very slowly, for Mrs. Nicholson was almost unable to
get along the street, and her patience was just failing when
they reached the old woman's house. They found it poor
but clean, and after getting some tea, Mrs. Nicholson's
regular beverage, she declared her intention of proceeding
at once to bed. They were then shown the way to their
lodging-room, which was up a ladder and through a trap-
door. Mrs. Nicholson declared she could never get up
there, but the old woman assured her that nothing was
more easy, and proceeded to set her the example by
nimbly going up and again descending the ladder. She at

Nancy Nicholson, the Termagant. 67

length succeeded in persuading Mrs. Nicholson to make
the attempt, and she mounted the ladder tolerably well.
When she was up she seemed better satisfied, for both the
room and the bed were very clean, but after examining all
over the place she said she did not like the look of it. " I
am afraid," said she, " they will shut down that trap-door
and rob us ; perhaps they may murder us," continued she,
" and there is no way to get out. Oh dear, I wish I had
never come here 3 I don't know what I came here for ;
and if we go out now, everybody else will be gone to bed.
Oh, whatever shall I do ? " Her companion tried to
pacify her as much as possible by remarking that there
was no one but themselves and the old woman in the
house, and there did not appear much danger of violence.
As Mrs. Nicholson had asked to stay the night with the old
woman, they should endeavour to annoy her as little as
possible ; daylight would come very soon, and they could
set off early for Asselby.

Mrs. Nicholson then remained tolerably quiet until
about two o'clock in the morning, when her patience was
exhausted, and she exclaimed, " Oh, I can't stay up here
any longer. I shall be smothered, I knew I shall ; you
all want to kill me. I believe that place is fastened up,
and we shall be murdered. Oh, I shall never get down
that hole ! Oh ! I don't know whatever I came here for !
Just think that I, who have so many good houses of my
own, should come up a hole like this ! Oh ! if I only get
away alive, I will always go to the best inns for the
future."

The poor old woman belonging to the house seemed
much hurt at Mrs. Nicholson going on so, and assured her
she was quite sate, for although she was poor she was

68 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

honest. All their endeavours to prevail on her to remain
any longer were fruitless, and she insisted on a light being
brought to enable her to descend the dreaded ladder.
However, with a little care she accomplished her descent
in safety, and once more seated by the fire (which the old
woman had kindled for the purpose of making her as com-
fortable as possible), her spirits appeared to revive, and as
soon as morning appeared she took her departure, without
making the poor woman any recompense for all the trouble
and annoyance she had caused her.

After their return from this wearisome journey, Mrs.
Nicholson's cousin having taken up her abode at Drax, in
the house before alluded to, this lady only saw her relative
occasionally for some weeks. When they did meet, Nancy
was always full of complaints about Mr. Nicholson's con-
duct, and the quarrels between the husband and wife about
this time were both frequent and severe.

Mr. Nicholson's niece left them a few weeks after her
aunt returned from Cumberland, after which time she
treated the poor sister-in-law with the greatest cruelty, com-
pelling her to walk without the assistance of her sticks,
although she was scarcely able to totter along.

It will be readily imagined that under these circum-
stances matters became worse and worse in Mr. Nicholson's
house.

It was about the end of November, 1844, that they had
a violent quarrel, which ended in a mutual agreement to
separate. As soon as this event happened, Mrs. Nicholson
sent a message to her cousin, requesting her to hasten to
Newland, to assist her in removing those articles of furniture
which Mr. Nicholson allowed her to take.

Mrs. Nicholson's intention was to take up her abode

Nancy Nicholson, the Termagant. 69

in a house belonging to her at Drax, which was next
door but one to that occupied by her cousin, and at that
time unoccupied.

On receiving the message, her cousin hastened to New-
land, and there found things in the greatest disorder. Mr.
Nicholson was evidently much the worse for liquor, and
Mrs. Nicholson was the very picture of misery.

" Oh," cried she, when she first saw her cousin, " I am
thankful you are come. Oh, do help me to remove these
things, for if we do not get them away now, perhaps he will
change his mind, and not let me have anything."

Then, giving a small trunk into her charge, she entreated
her to return to Drax immediately, and put that in a place
of safety. She was then to procure a horse and cart, with
which she was to return to Newland as quickly as possible,
having first instructed Mrs. W., the occupier of the adjoin-
ing house, to be ready to receive any goods which they
might send with the cart.

After making the necessary arrangements at Drax, she
again proceeded to Newland, having engaged the horse and
cart to follow her. On arriving the second time at New-
land, Mrs. Nicholson immediately began to remove her
goods from the house and place them outside, while Mr.
Nicholson stood in the doorway to see that she took
nothing but what he thought proper.

Mr. Nicholson had always behaved with the greatest
kindness to the cousin, and although at this time he was
far from sober, he accosted her courteously, and said, M Well,
you see we have come to the resolution of separating. I
shall give her a good many things that I can do without,
for I intend soon to give up housekeeping myself, when I
shall put up a bed in the vestry, and live there by myself.

70 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

Any place will be better than living with her. I suppose
you will assist her in removing her things. I shall in the
first place give her a bed, and she may take her choice
which she will have." The bed was tied up and placed in
the garden. He then handed out half-a-dozen chairs, a
small round table, several pictures, &c.

They had got so far when the cart arrived ; th;n Mrs.
Nicholson asked leave to take a chest of drawers. " Yes,"
said Mr. Nicholson, " if you will remove them without
opening you shall have them ; but if you open a drawer
they shall not be removed at all." — "Dear me, John, what
a fool you are," replied Mrs. Nicholson, " how do you think
it possible to remove it as it is?" — "Yes," said he, "you
have often called me a fool, and so I may as well act as
one. I have said the word, and unless these drawers are
removed without opening, they remain where they are."
" Oh, but there are some things in them belonging to you,"
responded Mrs. Nicholson, " let me take them out." — " No,"
he replied, " I command you to go at once ; and if these
drawers are not out in ten minutes, without opening, they
remain where they are altogether, and after these things
not another goes out of this house to-night. So do as you
please."

Mrs. Nicholson was almost frantic at this announcement.
The strength of herself, her cousin, and the man who
brought the cart, exerted to the utmost, was insufficient to
move the drawers. She ran about screaming to procure
assistance, when fortunately a man passed down the lane,
who in answer to her appeal, directly afforded his aid, and
the drawers were removed within the appointed time.

They deposited in the cart the drawers and all the things
they had got outside the house, when Mr. Nicholson posi-

Nancy Nicholson, the Termagant. 71

tively refused to let her have any more. " Then I will at
least ta' e a light to see the way,"j said she, seizing the
candlestick from the table, and leaving Mr. Nicholson in
total darkness with his poor old sister, who was almost
frightened to death.

The things were now all on the cart, ready to move
off, but Mrs. Nicholson, fearful of leaving anything,
remained searching about till she heard her husband ap-
proaching, when she proceeded to lead the way along the
lane, holding the lighted candle in her hand. The night
was excessively cold, and there was a slight breeze, but the
candle continued to burn all the way to Drax.

Mrs. Nicholson cried and sobbed as they went along, but
seemed to feel very grateful to her cousin for assisting her.
" Oh ! " she exclaimed, " what should I have done if I had
not had you near me to help me. Surely it was Providence
that sent you here ! Oh, I will reward you well for what
you have done for me."

When they arrived at Drax the cart was unloaded, and
the furniture deposited in the cousin's house, where Mrs.
Nicholson resolved to remain for the present. But she was
extremely dissatisfied with the small portion of furnkure she
had got out of the house at Newland, and determined to
have more if an opportunity offered.

A day or two passed without receiving any tidings from
Mr. Nicholson, when a note arrived from him, asking his
wife to return home ami endeavour to behave more decently.
This was the opportunity she wanted. He was therefore
sent for to his cousin's, when they mutually agreed to
live together again, with a hope for better results than
before.

But Mrs. Nicholson knew that this peace could not last,

7 2 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

and that a final separation must eventually take place ; she
therefore made the best of her opportunity by removing
stealthily from her husband's house every article she took a
fancy to, and which she thought he would not immediately
miss, to her barn, where the rest of the furniture was stored,
and which she resolutely refused to allow her husband to
bring back to his house.

At the end of a fortnight or three weeks the explosion
took place. The cousin was again sent for, and endeavoured
to make peace between the husband and wife. But her
efforts were unsuccessful this time. " No," said Mr.
Nicholson, resolutely, "she never will be better. That
woman has darkened and blighted my life. If I have sunk,
she has done it ; I started on my career as a clergyman
with hope and love to God and man. She has made me a
disgrace to my cloth, and darkened my heart with misery.
I have borne and borne with her. Heaven only knows the
shame she has caused me, the gall I have been made to
eat. Never shall she darken my doors again, for peace is
unknown where she resides. If love and forbearance could
have improved her, she has had all that from me. She has
outraged me, insulted me, with her odious insinuations or
her viler charges. I can bear it no longer ; I turn from her
with disgust."

The cousin was silent, knowing how true were the words
of the unfortunate man ; and she took Nancy to her
house.

Mr. Nicholson seems, however, to have been stung beyond
all endurance by some words she had launched at him in
parting. These rankled in his breast, and as he sat with his
brandy and water over the fire at night, brooding over his
wrongs, he drank till he was mad with rage, and suddenly

Nancy Nicholson, the Termagant.

i j

flinging out of the house, ran to where Nancy lodged, and
shouted through the door, " I bid you prepare, for at eleven
o'clock this night I shall blow up these premises with gun-
powder. I do not want to hurt any of you ; so I give you
warning in time."

Mr. Nicholson was exasperated at his wife having de-
spoiled his house of so many of its contents, and he knew
that these goods were stored in an adjoining shed. This is
what he threatened to blow up ; but his brain was muddled
with drink. At eleven o'clock he returned with his gun,
and fired into the shed where all the goods were heaped
up. The ball was afterwards found lodged in a cup-
board.

Mr. Nicholson then came to the door of the house where
his wife was, and opened it. Nancy had escaped by the
back door. He rushed in, and fell against a small table on
which stood the candle. In his fall he upset the table
against a cradle containing an infant, and at the same time
a large loaded pistol flew out of his poc*ket, which was
secured and conveyed away before he discovered its loss.

When things were again got into order, he requested to
see Mrs. Nicholson. The constable had been previously
sent for, and she had also sufficient protection from the
presence of several respectable neighbours, who by that
time had assembled. She was therefore advised to come
forward and face him. He looked wild and haggard in
the extreme, and eyed those about him very suspiciously.
A gentleman then told him that they all respected him,
and did not wish to expose him, but he was disturbing the
peace, and if he had any more firearms about him he must
give them up. He replied that he had not a master in
England except her Majesty the Queen and His Grace

74 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

the Archbishop of York, and if any other person interfered
with him he would blow their brains out. They imme-
diately seized him, and took from his pockets two small
pistols, both of which were loaded with balls.

As soon as the pistols were removed from his possession
he became perfectly quiet, and said, with a smile, " Come,
sit down, and I will just tell you the reason of all these
rows. You see my wife and I have both over much money,
and she wants what I have, and I want what she has ; so
we cannot agree. But come, let us have a friendly chat; I
have no enmity to any one whatever."

Good humour was instantly restored, and both husband
and wife, with a few of their kind neighbours, spent a short
time in friendly conversation. When the neighbours had
departed, Mr. and Mrs. Nicholson agreed to remain where
they were that night, and return home together early in the
morning, both of them joining in earnestly entreating their
cousin to accompany them, and remain with them for a
short time.

On the following morning they all went to Newland
together, and from the concessions they made to each other
at that time there appeared some prospect of a permanent
reconciliation. But alas ! like the former, it was only
transitory.

On the 29th of February, 1845, Mr. Nicholson called on
his cousin at Drax rather early in the morning, and informed
her that he feared Mrs. Nicholson was commencing her
former course of unjust upbraidings, but if possible he
would endeavour to let it pass over. He invited his cousin
to spend his birthday, which would be on the ensuing 1st
of March, with him at Newland.

The cousin asked if Mrs. Nicholson seconded the invita-

Nancy Nicholson, the Termagant. 75

tion, and when she heard that the dragon did wish her to
come, she consented. Mr. Nicholson then took his depar-
ture, urging her to come early. But in the afternoon of the
same dry she was a^rmed by a violent hammering at a
door near her own, an 1 on looking out into the yard she
observed Mr. Nicholson with a large blacksmith's hammer,
beating at the door of the unoccupied house which con
tained the goods Mrs. Nicholson had removed from New-
land.

The dcor soon yielded to the blows it received, and flew
open, whereupon Mrs. W., the adjoining tenant, and Mrs.
Nicholson's cousin, having consulted what to do, it was
agreed that Mrs. W. should proceed to Newland as quickly
as possible, and acquaint Mrs. Nicholson with the affair.
In the meantime the other would endeavour to reason with
Mr. Nicholson, who was busy examining all the things in
the house, and had gathered together a lot of papers,
letters, &c, which he was putting into the grate, observing
that it was very cold, but he would soon have a blazing fire.
He told his cousin he intended to have a sale in the after-
noon, when he would sell off everything. In the meantime
Mrs. W. had gone to Newland and returned in a very
short space of time with Mrs. Nicholson, who was crying
bitterly, and exclaiming against Mr. Nicholson in no very
gentle terms.

She entered the house, but when Mr. Nicholson saw her,
his fury seemed to increase still more, and she was glad to
run into her cousin's house for protection.

After her departure Mr. Nicholson set fire to the |
he had collected in the fireplace. Then, taking a green
silk umbrella out of a box, he quietly secured the door
of the house again, and bidding his cousin good after-

76 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

noon, walked off with the umbrella and his blacksmith's
hammer.

This was the final quarrel. He never from that day
visited his wife again, or would suffer her to re-enter his
doors. Indeed, they never again met.

Mrs. Nicholson became more composed after her hus-
band's departure, and informed her cousin that he had
beaten her severely about the head and breast, which was
very much discoloured. What with the beating, and the
anxiety of mind she must have felt in the circumstances in
which she was placed, it may be supposed that she was far
from well.

A medical man from Snaith happening just then to pass
the house, on a visit to the school, where he had some
patients, she exclaimed, " I have a great mind to call in
Dr. Potts and let him see the condition I am in. He
cannot charge much when he is not brought here on pur-
pose, and it will expose Mr. Nicholson rarely." Accord-
ingly as Mr. P. returned he was called in. He ordered her
a little medicine, and promised to call the next time he
passed.

After the departure of the doctor Mrs. Nicholson repented
calling him in, for she saw he intended to run up a long
bill. As for his medicine, she declared she never intended
to take it. Her principal object in calling in the doctor
was to secure the evidence of a medical man to her condi-
tion, in case she should apply to the Archbishop for an
allowance out of Mr. Nicholson's income. Therefore, after
his second visit she determined to receive him no more,
and left orders with her cousin to say she was quite well
again, and requested his bill. A bill was accordingly
handed in, the amount of which was ten shillings.

Nancy Nicholson, the Termagant. yj

Mrs. Nicholson declared this would be a warning to her
in future never to have anything to do with doctors until
the last extremity.

She remained at Newland some time longer, and then
removed to Asselby. The first change she made there was
to turn out of his farm the tenant who had given her so
much information previous to the division of the land with
her Dublin cousin, by means of which she had obtained
the best land. For the purpose of gaining this information
she had made her tenant a promise that he should never be
disturbed. He reminded her of her promise, but she had
made her plan, and cared neither for his entreaties nor her
promise. He was compelled to leave the farm at the ter-
mination of his tenancy, which was the Lady-day following
her final separation from her husband.

She persuaded her cousin to come and live with her at
Asselby, promising her if she would do so that she would
leave her all her property. The cousin, although to do so
was extremely inconvenient, and certainly most unpleasant,
agreed on these terms to do what she wished.

Poor Mr. Nicholson had bought an accordion, which he
amused himself in the long evenings with playing. On a
summer night he sat out under the trees and practised on
his instrument. Nancy was highly exasperated when
she heard this. It was done, she concluded, out of
malice, to exhibit to the whole parish that he was in-
different to his loss, and could be supremely happy without
his wife.

" And I can be happy too," said Nancy, and she
launched out in the extravagance of an organ. She could
not play it, but she could pull out all the stops, bang her
fist on the notes, and let the roar of the instrument pro-

78 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

claim to the neighbourhood through the open windows
that she too was merry.

But not satisfied with this, she determined to be re-
venged on her husband by obtaining if possible his inhi-
bition. She resolved on bringing Mr. Nicholson's intem-
perance under the notice of the Archbishop, yet so inge-
niously did she lay her plans, that when the investigation
took place, the part she had taken in it did not transpire.

It appears that Mr. Nicholson had a dispute with a
tenant at Drax about giving up possession of his premises
at a certain time, and this tenant called on Mrs. Nicholson
at Asselby, requesting her to be a witness as to the time of
his entering into possession, when she instigated him to
write to the Archbishop of York and give a full account or
Mr. Nicholson's various acts of intemperance, with a full
detail of all the circumstances in his conduct which were
likely to degrade him in the eyes of the Archbishop. She
promised to assist him if he would proceed with his charge,
but this promise she never intended to perform, for she
remarked afterwards that she did not care about him, only
she thought her complaint following his without having any
reference to each other would make Mr. Nicholson's con-
duct appear more abominable and unjust.

Mrs. Nicholson then caused letters to be written to the
Archbishop, complaining that Mr. Nicholson had beat her,
and caused her to be turned away without a home. This
brought about a correspondence between the Archbishop
and Mrs. Nicholson, but, contrary to her hopes, it ended
in the Archbishop advising Mrs. Nicholson to consult a
solicitor on the subject, which she well knew was unneces-
sary.

The investigation caused Mr. Nicholson's suspension

Nancy Nicholson, the Termagant. 79

from preaching for two years, which event give Mrs.
Nicholson great satisfaction. She wrote several letters to
him from Asselby, in some of which she abused him, and
in others expressed a wish to be again reconciled, but she
never received any reply.

Being now in comparative tranquillity with all around
her, she was at a Toss for an object on which to employ her
ever active brain, when one day, as she was reading over
the advertisements in the newspaper, she suddenly ex-
claimed, " I am tired of doing nothing, and I think it is a
sin to be idle. To be sure I have what will keep me, and
somebody after me, but I would rather be emp'oyed I
will try to obtain a housekeeper's situation. I know there
are many who would be glad to have such a person as me,
if it was only to take care of things for them." It is
probable that no one else would be of the same opinion,
but from that time she searched the advertisements in the
newspapers with an interest truly ridiculous. Week after
week passed, but nothing appeared which was likely to
suit her.

At length an advertisement appeared for a cock and
housekeeper wanted for a single gentleman. The address
was copied, and a letter written, describing her as a clerg -
man's daughter, &c. It was read over several times by
Mrs. Nicholson previous to its being deposited in the post-
office, and the reply was anxiously looked for. At It-
it arrived, when it appeared that the advertiser was a trig
respectable physician residing at Thirsk, and he appointed
a time for meeting Mrs. Nicholson at the Railway Hotel
at York.

Mrs. Nicholson immediately considered herself en.
and as she expected to leave Asselby for some I

Co Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

made great preparations for securing her apartments and
the property they contained, locking and marking every
drawer and cupboard, so that she might know if anyone
meddled with them during her absence.

She had then to consider what clothing would be neces-
sary for this important occasion. She thought it probable
that she would be expected to dress rather smart in her new
situation, and accordingly packed up in a band-box an old-
fashioned black silk pelisse, lined in front with yellow; a
pink muslin gown which she had got soon after her
marriage, and which was consequently too small for her at
this time ; her never-failing black stuff gown for occasional
use ; and a light shawl. These formed her wardrobe and
filled the band-box, which was then tied up in a large old
shawl. She then packed a few articles in a reticule basket
covered with a piece of old blue print. This she secured
with a padlock passed through the lid of the basket and
the willows at the top which were left uncovered by the
print.

In vain her friends tried to persuade her not to take her
clothes with her, as it was doubtful if she would get the
situation. She appeared to think that was impossible,
because she was determined to go, let the place be
what it might, never seeming to think the other side would
refuse. She was then entreated to dress herself as tidily
as possible, but she would only go her own way. So she
arrayed herself in an old print gown, very much soiled, the
indispensable apron, a woollen plaid shawl, a cap very
much crushed, and a bonnet little better.

The day appointed for meeting the gentleman at York
was wet and stormy, but Mrs. Nicholson resolutely faced
the storm, and taking the packet at the ferry, arrived in

Nancy Nicholson, the Termagant. 8 r

safety at York. She then set off to walk to the hotel, but
by the time she reached the end of Skeldergate she was
pretty well fatigued with her great bundle and basket, and
her shoes were covered with mud, her bonnet blown back
off her face, and her hair hanging about in disorder.

She was in this state when she arrived at the hotel, and
inquired if Mr. from Thirsk was there. She was im-
mediately shown into his presence. On entering the room
she made a low curtsey, placed her bundle on the floor,
and sat down on the nearest chair, almost overcome.

The gentleman approached from the other end of the
room, which was a large one, and looking at her for about
a minute, he inquired, " Were you wanting me ? "

"Yes, sir," she replied. "I suppose you are Mr. ,

from Thirsk ? "

" I am," said the gentleman.

" Oh, then," said she, " I am Mrs. Nicholson who
wrote to you about your situation as cook and house-
keeper."

The gentleman, who appeared rather nervous, imme-
diately replied, " Oh, dear me — you Mrs. Nicholson ! —
you the person who wrote to me ! I understood "

Here his sentence was left unfinished, and he com-
menced again, " Oh, my good woman, it must be some
mistake. Are you the person who wrote to me ? "

" Yes, sir," she replied ; " and I assure you I will take
all possible care of anything intrusted to me."

" Oh, dear ! " said he, " you are not at all the kind of
person that I require. I have hitherto had my sister to
superintend my house, but she is going to travel in Italy,
and I want a person qualified to supply her place."

"Oh," answered Mrs. Nicholson, "I can do that I
VOL. II. G

82 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

have been used to manage a family of fifteen, and I am
sure I can do all you require."

" Oh, dear, no ! " again retorted the gentleman, who
began to look upon her with some degree of apprehension.
" I assure you, you are not the sort of person I want.
There must have been some mistake, my good woman —
you really will not do for me." So saying, he retreated
towards the other end of the room.

But Mrs. Nicholson was not going to be repulsed so-
easily. She rose from her seat, and resolutely followed
him, saying, " Indeed, sir, I feel quite sure I could do for
you ; if you please, sir, just try me for a month. Oh, sir,
I should so much like to go with you ! "

The gentleman looked much embarrassed and annoyed,
and walking about, he said, " Indeed, my good woman, I
do assure you I cannot take you with me. You really are
not the sort of person I require."

Mrs. Nicholson began to feel disappointed, but resolved
to try again. Once more advancing towards him, she said,
" Well, sir, I am very sorry you think so. However, I
have no objections to travel, and if your sister should want
a companion "

Here the gentleman interrupted her, saying, " My good
woman, no such thing, I assure you. You really will not
do at all. There has evidently been some mistake, for
had I known before, I need not have troubled you."

"Well, indeed," said Mrs. Nicholson, "it has been a
great deal of trouble, for I have come all the way on
purpose, and have brought my clothes with me."

The gentleman involuntarily cast his eyes first at the
great bundle and then at the speaker, and observed he was
really sorry, though he could not be answerable for her

Nancy Nicholson, the Termagant. 83

actions, but if she desired, he would order her some
refreshment.

However, she declined, and took her departure, murmur-
ing something about her disappointment and the trouble
she had been at.

On reaching the street, Mrs. Nicholson suddenly ex-
claimed, " What a great fool I was not to take a glass of
wine when he offered it. I am sure it was little enough for
the trouble and expense I have had. But I'll go back and
see if I cannot get something from him towards paying my
fare home again."

Accordingly she returned to the hotel, but the gentle-
man was denied to her, when finding herself again dis-
appointed, she gave vent to her indignation against
him, and ended by calling him " a ninny-nonny old
bachelor."

Week after week rolled on, and she was still pondering
over a situation, when her attention was again attracted by
an advertisement for a housekeeper. Application was made,
and an answer duly returned, informing her that her ser-
vices would be required to manage a large establishment.
Her wages would be thirty pounds per annum, and she
would have the control of all the female servants, except
the lady's maid and the governess. The others she would
have power to engage and discharge at her own discretion.
She was requested to go over immediately to meet the lady
and gentleman at their own house.

Mrs. Nicholson was delighted with these proposals, and
already fancied herself at the head of the establishment.
She immediately began to calculate how much money she
could save out of her wages, and the various perquisites
which she considered would be within her reach, and she

84 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

then rejoiced that she had not obtained the old bachelor's
situation at Thirsk.

As this situation promised to be one of importance, she
thought it would be necessary to take most of her smart
clothes, but after mature consideration she made up her
mind to take precisely the same as she had taken to York.
The bandbox had never been unpacked since her former
journey, so that she had only the covered basket to fill, and
she was then ready to start.

The letter she had received directed her to a beautiful
mansion near Skipton in Craven. As it was necessary to
be there as early as possible, she was obliged to travel by
rails. When she arrived at the station at Skipton, she in-
quired the way to A , and after a weary walk, at length

reached the entrance to the grounds surrounding the Hall.
After proceeding a few yards along the avenue, she sat down
to arrange her dress, and then took a survey of the place.
From the spot which she occupied she could obtain a
slight glimpse of the building. " Why," she exclaimed,

" this is much finer than K Hall ; I shall have a

grander place than him." After resting a short time she
proceeded to a door, and slightly tapping at it, retired a
few steps. It was speedily opened by a female domestic,
who inquired of Mrs. Nicholson what she wanted. She

replied by asking if Mrs. was at home. The girl

having answered in the affirmative, she requested her to be
so kind as to inform the lady that Mrs. Nicholson had
arrived.

"Oh, certainly," replied the girl; and eyeing her from
head to foot, she asked, " are you Mrs. Nicholson ? "

"Yes," replied Mrs. Nicholson, "and I have just arrived
by the train."

Nancy Nicholson, the Termagant. 85

The girl then invited her to walk in, and she was shown
into a small sitting-room. In passing along she saw that
the house was very extensive, and the apartments so
numerous and so grand that she would not be able to stop
there. She had just made up her mind that the place was
too grand for her, when the door opened and a lady
entered. Mrs. Nicholson arose and curtsied, but was full
cf confusion, and unable to utter a word. The lady

requested her to sit down, and informed her that Mrs.

would be with her in a few minutes.

" What," answered Mrs. Nicholson, " are not you
Mrs. ?"

11 Oh, no," replied she, " I am her maid."

"I suppose Mrs. is expecting me?" said Mrs.

Nicholson.

" Oh, yes," replied the maid ; " she sent the carriage to
the railway station to meet the train, and bring you here.
But it returned some time since. The groom said he made
inquiries, but could not hear of a passenger likely to be the
new housekeeper."

During this speech the lady's maid appeared to be
examining Mrs. Nicholson's dress most minutely.

In a short time the lady herself appeared, and the maid
withdrew, but Mrs. Nicholson had both seen and heard
sufficient to prevent her from feeling the least desire to
remain. She therefore at once said to the lady, M Oh,
ma'am, I am sorry I have come here, for I could never
stay in this great place."

The lady replied, "Well, Mrs. Nicholson, I am sorry
likewise, for I was really in hopes I had met with an
excellent housekeeper. However, as you see it yourself,
I shall be spared the necessity of wounding your feelings."

86 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

The lady then repeated what the maid had told her
about sending the carriage to the railway station, but Mrs.
Nicholson appeared quite incapable of entering into con-
versation. The lady evidently observed her confusion,
and behaved with the utmost kindness and condescension.
She remarked that night was coming on ; therefore if Mrs.
Nicholson would remain till morning, she would give orders
for her accommodation.

Mrs. Nicholson decided not to remain, and she also de-
clined taking any refreshments, but she expressed a desire
to see some of the rooms in the Hall. The lady readily
granted her wish, and showed her through the splendid
apartments herself. She again expressed her sorrow that
a mistake, as she expressed it, had occurred, and Mrs.
Nicholson replied that she was sorry too, for the journey
had been a great expense to her, but she hoped the lady
would give her something towards it.

The lady smiled at her request, and gave her a few
shillings, remarking that she had now paid for advertising
for a housekeeper.

Mrs. Nicholson humbly thanked her, and took her
departure, amidst the half-suppressed titters of the servants,
who had assembled to witness her exit.

These events were seldom referred to afterwards, and
Mrs. Nicholson thenceforth rested satisfied without seeking
another situation, but continued steadily her usual mode of
living and amassing money.

In the beginning of the year 1850, having heard that
Mr. Nicholson was dangerously ill, she felt anxious to see
him, but first caused the question to be put to him if he
wished to see her, when he expressed the greatest
abhorrence at the idea, and declared that he never

Nancy Nicholson, the Termagant. 87

wished to see her more. He died on the 8th of February
following.

At the invitation of the executors she attended the
funeral. She was dressed in her never-failing black stuff
gown, and a white Tuscan bonnet which she bought soon
after she separated from her husband. The bonnet was
trimmed for the funeral with a narrow black gauze ribbon.
On arriving at the house, the first thing she did was to
ask for her green silk umbrella, which it will be remem-
bered Mr. Nicholson had taken out of her box at Drax.
She declared if it was not brought she would search the
house for it. To prevent any unpleasantness, the umbrella
was sought out, and fearful of again losing her treasure, she
proceeded to church as chief mourner with the umbrella in
her hand.

Mr. Nicholson left a will wherein he provided for his
poor old sister for life, with remainder to a niece in North-
amptonshire. His household furniture and effects were to
be sold. Of course he could not prevent Mrs. Nicholson
from having a life interest in any property referred to in
the deeds in which her name was inserted.

When the sale of the furniture was advertised, Mrs.
Nicholson determined to go over to Newland and take
possession of the house. Her cousin was invited to accom-
pany her. She was much troubled with the thought of the
sale, for the things had formerly been hers, and she seemed
to feel great pain at parting with them in that way. At
length she declared, as she could not keep them herself, she
would endeavour to prevent anybody else from enjoying
them. She then broke the glass over the clock face, and
with a penknife cut slits in the carpets and haircloth
covering of the sofa. These were not visible at the time

8 3 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

of the sale, but would undoubtedly appear when brought
into use.

The sale took place on the Saturday, and it was late in
the evening when it was concluded. Several friends invited
Mrs. Nicholson to their homes, but she refused to leave
the house. Two bedsteads and a crimson sofa were left,
which the purchasers could not conveniently remove that
evening, and which Mrs. Nicholson gladly allowed to re-
main, as they were likely to be useful to her. She had
previously observed a large bundle in the garden, which
had evidently been overlooked by the auctioneer and his
assistants. This she contrived to conceal in the cellar
until all the company had retired, when she brought it
forth, and found it to contain an excellent pair of blankets
and a good quilt, which enabled them to make their
quarters rather more comfortable. She also found in the
cellar a barrel containing a considerable quantity of ale,
with which she nearly filled an old kettle, and having boiled
it over a fire made of sticks and old wood, she drank the
greater part of the kettleful at her supper, and was soon
as fast asleep in her new-found blankets, laid on the bare
bedstead, as if she had been on a bed of down.

When morning arrived, the house, as might be expected,
presented a very desolate appearance. The cold was intense,
but Mrs. Nicholson resolutely refused every invitation to
leave it. She and her cousin found plenty of sticks and wood,
with which they kept up a tolerable fire, and having drunk
some more boiled ale, Nancy commenced a thorough inspec-
tion of the house. She found some old lumber which had
not been worth selling, and in one of the chambers a good
heap of barley. Into this chamber she removed all the
lumber, together with all the pots and pans, whether broken*

JVancy Nicholson , the Termagant. 89

or sound, a quantity of doctors' bottles, and every piece ci
wood about the place which was not then required for their
fire.

Having only a life interest in the house, she determined
to remove the fixtures. She pulled the shelves out of the
cupboard, tore down the banisters at the top of the stairs,
took the lock off the parlour door and the rollers from the
windows, and deposited them in the chamber with the
lumber and the barley. When night again drew on she
had all arranged to her satisfaction. Again she boiled her
kettleful of ale, and again slept soundly in her blankets
as on the previous night.

Early on Monday morning she deposited in the chamber
the blankets, the quilt, and the old kettle, and having
securely locked the door and placed a private mark upon
it that she might know if an entrance had been attempted,
she waited anxiously until the owner of the bedsteads and
sofa arrived and took them away. She then secured the
house by nailing down the windows, &c, and taking the
path across the fields, once more returned to Asselby.

Almost immediately after she arrived at home, she was
informed by the niece whose husband was tenant of the
farm, that, owing to the heavy rent and other circum-
stances, their affairs had become embarrassed. Mrs.
Nicholson had always promised to be a friend to them,
and they now offered to give all up to her, hoping by that
means to secure a continuance of her friendship. But she
suddenly took offence at something or other, and seize 1
upon all they possessed, which was immediately advertised
to be sold by auction, and her niece and family left
house the same evening.

There was then no one left about the premises but

•90 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

herself, and as she could not bear to be alone, she again
•entreated her cousin to remain with her for a time.

The sale of her niece's stock and furniture proceeded.
At the conclusion, the villagers, to whom she had always
been an object of dislike, made a large straw effigy, and
paraded it up and down the place. They then set fire to
it in front of her window, and saluted her with songs,
hisses, and execrations.

The sight of the fire thoroughly alarmed her, and throw-
ing open the window she screamed and swore like a mad
Avoman. She sent for a constable and shouted for help.
No one appeared to interfere on her behalf, but when
the effigy had ceased burning, the crowd dispersed of their
•own accord.

Nancy Nicholson was so offended at having been burnt
in effigy that she determined to leave Asselby, and as she
had again a house at liberty at Drax, she moved her
furniture into it, and persuaded her cousin to accompany
her.

She got her tenant, Mrs. W , to lend her carts to

move her goods free of expense, promising to remember
her in her will.

She then despatched the first load of furniture and corn.
The quantity of old rubbish she had collected was sur-
prising. But she refused to part with any portion of it,
and rags, old iron, and bones were all packed with equal
•care.

About six weeks after the death of her husband, an
•elderly gentleman began to pay his addresses to Mrs.
Nicholson. A second suitor speedily followed, and
shortly afterwards a third. This bevy of suitors had a
wonderful effect on the old lady, and she began to pay

Nancy Nicholson, the Termagant. 9 \

great attention to her dress and personal appearance.
She purchased within one week three new gowns, all of
which she had made up with flounces ; she got also a
new bonnet, and had several caps newly trimmed. She
then brought from her stores several rings, not one of
which was gold except her marriage ring, and with
these she adorned her fingers. An hour or more she
would spend every morning in rubbing her rings, and
in oiling and dressing her hair, taking great pains to
set herself off to the best advantage, assuming all the
giddy flirting airs of a girl of sixteen. There is little
doubt she would have married a second time, but feared
parting with her money, and it is thought that none of
her suitors were particularly anxious to take her without it.
About this time she began to attend the Roman
Catholic chapel at Howden, and shortly after was
received into the Roman Church by baptism ; and at
that time she certainly appeared to have more devo-
tional feeling than she ever displayed either before or
afterwards. But on being applied to for a small dona-
tion towards the new church then in course of erection
at Howden, she speedily withdrew from the Roman com-
munion, remarking that she had a good pew in the parish
church, to which she could go without expense when-
ever she felt disposed, and she would too, in spite of
every one.

Previous to this, Nancy Nicholson had let a portion of
the house at Newland, together with the land adjoining,
to a young couple from Holderness, and for a time all
appeared to be going on smoothly.

But the Asselby farm remained unlet, in ( onsequence of
her asking for it an exorbitant rent. She therefore deter-

92 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

mined to farm it herself, and in spite of her aversion to
Asselby, was obliged to return to it. Mrs. W., her tenant,
was again persuaded to lend her cart to remove the precious
furniture of Nancy Nicholson, and shortly after she built
another house at Asselby, and prevailed on her tenant at
Newland to remove into the new house. She then got him
to promise to bring with him the few trifling articles she
said she had left locked up in the chamber at Newland.
He little imagined what a quantity of worthless lumber was
comprised in those w few articles."

Mrs. Nicholson and her cousin went over, on a day
appointed, to superintend the removal of the miscellaneous
collection of rubbish which had lain so long neglected. In
a most awful condition they found it. The sight and smell
which saluted them when they opened the door was not
soon forgotten. The room literally swarmed with mice,
and many of their dead bodies lay about in various stages
of decay. The heap of barley was nearly levelled and
pretty well shelled out, and, on lifting up the blankets, vast
numbers of mice, both young and old, rolled out, and ran
squealing about, in consternation at the unwonted disturb-
ance of the comfortable abode they had enjoyed so long in
peace and plenty.

Mrs. Nicholson stood, the very image of despair, holding
in her hands the blankets, which were riddled through and
through by the mice, who had made their nests in every
fold, and the smell which came from them was almost
suffocating.

She then had all the various articles conveyed down
into the yard. Among them was an old broken cream-pot
containing about a stone of salt, which displayed sufficient
evidence that the mice had been frequently amongst it.

Nancy Nicholson, the Termaga?U. 93

But even this she could not bear to leave behind, observing
that the dirt could be picked out, and then it would last
her a long time.

She next caused the chimney-stones and fire-grate to be
removed from the parlour, at the additional weight of which
the tenant grumbled sadly. They then commenced loading
the cart, Mrs. Nicholson standing by to see that nothing
belonging to her was left behind. Suddenly she espied the
pot of salt, which had evidently been overlooked inten-
tionally. The man declared he could not find a place where
it would go safely, but she insisted on his taking it, and
reached it up into the cart herself. The man endeavoured
to shift some of the other articles to find a place for the
salt pot, when, partly with his extra weight and partly with
shifting the other things, the cart overbalanced, and the
contents were strewed on the ground. Fortunately the man,
seeing the danger, jumped off, and escaped without injur}-,
but an excellent chest of drawers which he had in the cart
was much damaged. Heedless of his dangers or losses,
Mrs. Nicholson commenced a volley of abuse and lamenta-
tion, ludicrously mixed together — one moment cursing the
man and the next mourning over her doctor's bottles and
the unfortunate salt pot, which was reduced to fragments
and the salt spread on the ground. She remarked that the
drawers could be repaired, but the bottles and pot were
done for ever.

The loading recommenced, and another jar obtained
from the tenant for the salt, which was scraped up with
a little additional dirt, of course, but as on the whole
there seemed no reduction of quantity, Mrs. Nicholson
was apparently satisfied, particularly as her tenant gave
her the jar to make up for the loss of the bottles. At

94 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

length he started with his load, and in due time arrived
safely at Asselby.

Mrs. Nicholson could never get a servant to live with
her for any length of time, her filthy habits being past
endurance. She endeavoured to do without assistance,
but finding that impossible, she prevailed on her cousin to
go to Asselby once a week to help her to clean up a little.
She had her bed in the room down-stairs where she lived,
and her chambers were not swept for months previous to
her death. If her cousin offered to clean up-stairs she
would reply that it was of no consequence, for no one went
up but herself. Her cousin received no payment for her
attendance, although she found her own provisions, relying
entirely on Mrs. Nicholson's oft-repeated promise that she
should be rewarded in her will. Her weekly attendance
was continued until about the beginning of July, 1854,
when Mrs. Nicholson engaged a daughter of the niece
before mentioned, to go three times a week. She also
found her own provisions, but had wages for her labour.
The cousin, at Mrs. Nicholson's request, still went occa-
sionally.

Soon after this Mrs. Nicholson became very ill, but was
without medical advice until the 4th of August, making
her words good in that respect, that she would never have
another doctor until the last extremity. On that day she
allowed one to be sent for, and on the following day she
gave instructions for her will to be made. She bequeathed
the farm and house she occupied, with all her furniture
and money in the bank, to the niece before mentioned.
She left another farm to the cousin in Ireland, who had
been defrauded when they separated their land. She left
^1500 to the son of a half-cousin by her mother's side,

Nancy Nicholson, the Termagant. 95

residing in Cumberland. But the great bulk of her property
was left to her half-nephew mentioned in the account of
her visit to Cumberland.

Although both the medical gentleman and the solicitor
very kindly urged her to remember the cousin who had so
constantly attended upon her, without having hitherto
received the slightest recompense or reward for her trouble
and expense, she refused to leave her anything. Nor did
she leave anything to her other own cousins in Cumber-
land, or perform her promise to provide for Mrs. W ,

her tenant at Drax, or the promises she made to her other
tenants that she would leave each of them a years rent.

About a fortnight before her death she wished for some
wine, and sent for a bottle of the best that could be pro-
cured. The wine was brought, and she was informed the
price was four shillings, which caused her great dissatis-
faction. She accused the person who brought it with
extravagance in paying so much, and with folly in not
ascertaining what would be allowed for the bottle when
empty.

She then ordered in a five-gallon barrel of ale, all of
which she consumed in the week previous to her death.
Hearing from the doctor that she could not live long, she
was dreadfully afraid of dying before she had finished the
barrel, and so not have had all she could out of her
money. As she had not been accustomed to drink fer-
mented liquors for some years before, there is no doubt she
must have been half-stupefied with beer during the last
week of her existence.

She signed her will on Sunday morning, August 6th,
1S54, and died the evening of the same day, aged sixty-
seven.

96

Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

THE WOODEN BELL OF RIPON.

EAR the railway station at Ripon is a quaint
block of old almshouses, with an ancient chapel
dedicated to S. Mary Magdalen, of grey stone,
backed by a grove of elm?. The little chapel
contains some curious wood carving, the original stone
altar, ar.d a large oak chest in which reposes a solitary
curiosity- a wooden bell, painted grey-green. The chapel
is fortunately unrestored, left in its picturesque antiquity to
moulder away. Any one who had seen the chapel of
Barden Tower some years ago, and what it has become
under the hand of the restorer, will know what it is to be
grateful that a venerable relic of antiquity has not been
furbished up to suit modern taste. That St. Mary Magda-
len's would have fallen into bad hands had it been given
over to restoration may be judged by the hideous new
chapel which the authorities have recently erected close to
the almshouses.

By that wooden bell in the oak chest hangs a tale.
In the time of our grandfathers, Dr. Waddilove was
Dean of Ripon, a divine of the old port-wine-drinking
school.

The Wooden Bell of Ripon. 97

Now S. Mary Magdalen's chapel was no longer used.
By the ancient endowment there was to be a resident chap-
lain and daily service in the little church, which the inmates
of the almshouses were expected to attend. But the chap-
laincy and its emoluments were usually held by one of the
canons of the Minster. The stipend went into his pocket ;
the duties were neglected. If the old almsfolk wished to
pray to God daily, they might totter three-quarters of a mile
up to the Minster.

Dean Waddilove took on himself the chaplaincy ; that is,
he appropriated to the stocking of his cellar the money
bequeathed to the almonership of the Magdalen Hospital.

But his cellar fell low. The Dean wanted money ; his
credit with the wine-merchants was as low as his cellar.
How was money to be raised ?

One day he had the bell of the Magdalen Chapel re-
moved from the gable in which it had hung for many cen-
turies, and had hung silent for many years. It was an
ancient bell, with a Lombardic inscription —

" Sum ego pulsata
Rosa mundi vocata."

The bell went to the founders; the money paid for it

went to the wine-merchant, and a hamper of fine old

crusted port arrived at the Deanery.

But Ripon people, though long-suffering, could not quite

endure the " robbing of churches." Murmurs were heard ;

the Dean was remonstrated with. He puffed out, turning

as red as a turkey-cock —

" Well, well ! the bell shall go back again."

And sure enough next week the bell was seen once

more hanging in the gable of S. Mary Magdalen's chapel

as of yore.

vol. 11. 11

98 Yorkshire Oddities a?id Incidents.

The Ripon people were content. The bell was never
rung, but to that they were accustomed. Who cared
whether the old goodies in the hospital were ministered
to or not? It was no affair of theirs if the founder's
wishes were set at nought, and the walls of the Magdalen
never sounded with the voice of prayer.

But next spring, as on many a former one, the swallows
built their nests among the eaves, and found a place about
the altar of God's deserted house, as they had done in
the days of the Psalmist. When nesting-time came, some
boys began climbing about the roofs in quest of eggs.

One of them, seeing a rope dangling from the bell,
caught it and began to pull, when, to his amazement, the
bell uttered no sound. He crept under it. There was no
clapper; and, what was more, it hardly looked hollow.
His curiosity was excited, and he climbed up to it, and
discovered that the bell was only a piece of deal turned,
and painted the colour of bell-metal !

The story sounded further than ever had the old bell ;
and for very shame the Dean was obliged to take it down,
and hide it in the chest of the Magdalen chapel.

Autumn came round. The Dean had notable espalliers
in his garden. His trees were too attractive to the urchins
of Ripon to escape visits. This highly incensed the Dean ;
and one night, hearing the boys at his apple-trees, he rushed,
stick in hand, upon them. One he caught by the scruff of
his neck. The others fled over the wall.

" Oh, you young ruffian ! you audacious young scoun-
drel !" roared the Dean ; "where do you think thieves will
go to hereafter ? What do you think will happen to them
here?"

" Please, sir ! please, sir ! "

The Wooden Bell of Rip on.

99

" Hold your wicked tongue, you rascal ! " thundered the
Dean, whistling his cudgel round his head, " I shall thrash
you unmercifully now, and lock you up in the black-hole
to-night, and take you to the magistrate to-morrow, and
have you sent to prison. And then, if you go on with your
stealing, sir ! you will go — there ! " And the Dean progged
with his stick in the direction of the centre of the globe.

Then he shook the boy furiously — " one, two," bang came
the stick down.

" Please, mercy. Mr. Dean ; spare me ! "

"Spare you, sir ! no — three."

"But, please, Mr. Dean, my father made the wooden bell
for you."

" Go along, you rascal," gasped the Dean, relaxing his
hold, and rushing back into his house.

ioo Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

THE MILK IN' TIME.

A CRAVEN SONG.

HE following charming little song is by James

Henry Dixon, LL.D., a native of Craven,

author of several works of a local character.

It is inserted here as a specimen of Craven

dialect, as well as for its own beauty. *

Meet meh at the fowd at the milkin' time,
Whan the dusky sky is gowd, at the milkin' time ;
Whan the fog is slant wiv dew,
An' the clocks going hummin' thro'
The wick-sets, an' the branches ov the owmerrin yew.

Weel ye knaw the hour ov the milkin' time :

The girt bell sounds frev t' tower at the milkin' time ',

But as t' gowd suin turns to gray,

An' ah cannot hev delay,
Dunnat linger bi the way at the milkin' time.

Ye'll find a lass 'at's true at the rnilkin'-time,
Shoo thinks ov nane bud you at the milkin' time ;

Bud my fadder's gittin' owd,

An' he's gien a bit ta scowd,
Whan ah's owre lang at the fowd, at the milkin' time.

* Published in "A Garland of Poetry by Yorkshire Authors."'
A. Holroyd, Saltaire, 1873.

The Milkiri Time. 101

Happen ye're afear'd at the milkin' time ;
Mebbe loike ye've heer'd, at the milkin' time,

The green-fowk shak their feet,

Whan t' moon on Hee-sides breet ;
An' it chances soa ta-neet, at the milkin' time.

There's yan, an' he knaws weel whan it's milkin' time :
He'd faace the varra deil at the milkin' time ;

He'd nut be yan ta wait,

Tho' a Bargest was i' t' gate,
If the word, ah'd nobbut say't, at the milkin' time.

102 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

OLD JOHN MEALY-FACE.

[LD JOHN M ,* a character in his way, and

ja. celebrity in his very little circle, was born
in the parish of Topcliffe, near Thirsk, on
February 20th, 17 84.

He was thrice married. His first and second wives I
did not know; the third he married March 29th, 1838.
She was afflicted with paralysis of her legs during a great
part of her later life. She was a charming old woman —
religious, amiable, and a general favourite with her neigh-
bours.

Old John had sharp features, an eagle nose, and a promi-
nent chin. He wore drab corduroy breeches and blue
stockings. He shaved all the hair off his face. The nick-
name he bore in the village, where he resided on his small
farm, was " Mealy-Face." He obtained it by this means :
John was a close-fisted old man, who stinted himself, and his
wife above all, in every possible way, for he dearly loved
money. He did not allow his wife enough food, and she,
poor thing, was wont, when he was out for the day at
market or at fair, to bake herself a loaf from which she
could cut a hunch when hungry.

Her husband found this out, and was very wroth. When
he went to market he pressed his face down in the flour at

* I suppress the name, as the old man died but lately.

Old John Mealy- Face. 103

the top of the bin, and on his return put his face back in
the depression?, to make sure that the flour had not been
disturbed.

The old man was not without dry humour. The story is
told of him that a clergyman called on him one day to say
he was about to leave his present sphere of work, " the
Lord having called him to work in another vineyard."

" Then," said Old Mealy-Face, " I lay you get a better
wage."

" Yes," answered the clergyman, " it is a better living
by a hundred a-year."

" Heh ! I thowt seah (so)," said John, dryly ; " else
the Lord mud ha' called while (till) he'd been hoarse, and
ye'd niver ha' heeard."

An excursionist met him on Whitston Scar, on the
Hambledons. The traveller had come there from Thirsk,
hoping to see the glorious view stretching to Pendle Hill,
in Lancashire. But a fog came on and obscured the scene.
The gentleman coming upon John, who had been to
Helmsley on some business or other, accosted him in an
off-hand manner :

" Hey, gaffer ! there's a fine view from here, ain't there,
on fine days?"

" Aye, sur, it might be worse."

" One can see a long way, I'm told."

" I reckon one may if one's got eyes."

" Now tell me, gaffer, can one see as far as America, do
you think ? "

" One can see a deel furder," answered John.

'• You don't mean to say so ? "

u Eh, but I do. One can see t' moon from Whitston
on a moonshiny nevt."

1 04 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

Old John had a famous pear-tree in his garden. Two
years running his pears were stolen, and no doubt were
sold in Thirsk market, without John being a penny the
richer. The old man grimly awaited the thief as the fruit
ripened in the following autumn, sitting nightly in his
window, gun in hand.

One dark night, just before market-day, he heard some
one at his tree. He took careful aim at the spot whence
the sound proceeded, fired, and a scream told him his
bullet had taken effect. In fact, he had hit the thief in the
thigh ; but the ball had fortunately penetrated the flesh,
and broken no bone.

The pear-stealer was caught, and on the first opportunity
brought before the magistrates at Thirsk. The presiding
magistrate — I think it was Sir John Galway, but am not

certain — deemed it advisable to caution John M

against too free a use of his gun.

" You know, my good friend, that a gun loaded with a
bullet might have killed the man who stole your pears."

" Ah, it might, and it would, but t' gun snecked (kicked)
as I were blazin' wi' it."

" If the gun had not ' snecked,' as you call it, the bullet
would probably have gone into the poor fellow's heart and
killed him dead."

" I'll tak' care it deean't sneck again," said Old John,
who had no scruples against shooting a pear-stealer.

Whilst in the parish of Topcliffe I am constrained to
relate an anecdote illustrative of Yorkshire shrewdness,
though unconnected with Mealy-Face.

An old woman — Molly Jakes, we will call her — died, or
was thought to have died, and was buried by the parish.
A few days after the funeral the vicar was talking to the

Old John Mealy- Face. 105

sexton, when the latter said, drawing the back of his hand
across his nose, " Ye thowt old Molly Jakes were deead,
sur."

"Dead, dead ! bless my soul ! of course she was."

" Well, mebbe she is neah (now)."

" What do you mean ? Speak, for heaven's sake !"

" Nay, sur, it's nowt ! Only I thowt efter I'd thrown the
mould in as I heeard her movin' and grum'ling under
t' greand (ground)."

" You dug her up at once, of course, man alive ? "

" Nay," said the sexton, " I know two o' that," casting a
knowing look at the parson. " T parish paid one burying :
who was to pay me for digging her up and putting her in
ageean, if she died once maire ? Besides," said the sexton,
drawing his hand back again across his nose, " Old Molly
cost t' parish hef-a-croon a week when she war wick (alive).
Noo she's felted (hidden) under t' greeand, she costs nowt.
If I'd dug her up and she lived ever seah (so) long, what
would ha' t' rate-payers 'a said teah (to) me ? "

John M , once, when I was in his house, told me a

curious tale about himself. He was riding one night to
Thirsk, when he suddenly saw passing him a radiant boy
on a white horse. There was no sound of footfall as he
drew nigh. Old John was first aware of the approach of
the mysterious rider by seeing the shadow of himself and
his horse flung before him on the high-road. Thinking
there might be a carriage with lamps, he was not alarmed
till by the shortening of the shadow he knew that the light
must be near him, and then he was surprised to hear no
sound. He thereupon turned in his saddle, and at the
same moment the radiant boy passed him. He was a child
of about eleven, with a bright, fresh face.

ic6 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

" Had he any clothes on, and, if so, what were they
like ? " I asked. But John was unable to tell me. His
astonishment was so great that he took no notice of par-
ticulars.

The boy rode on till he came to a gate which led into a
field. He stooped as if to open the gate, rode through,
and all was instantly dark.

" I'm an owd customer," said John when he presented
himself to be married the third time ; " soa, vicar, I hope
ye'll do t' job cheap. Strike off two-thirds, as it's the third
wife."

John Mealy-Face died at the age of eighty-four, and was
buried at Topcliffe on November 5th, 1868.

The Boggart of I Iclltii-Pot. 107

THE BOGGART OF HELLEN-POT.

A TALE OF THE YORKSHIRE MOORS.*

TOOK the opportunity last autumn, just beiore
the break-up of the weather, of shaking off the
dust of shoddy-mills, and getting a whin of air,
unadulterated with smoke, in a run among the
Yorkshire moors for the better part of a week. I spent the
first night at Bolton, and slept soundly, after a ramble
through the beautiful Wharfedale, and an examination of the
Strid, where the river gushes through a rift in the rock so
narrow that it is supposed possible to stride across it,
though I never heard of any man venturesome enough to
make the attempt. A friend accompanied me, a Mr.
Keene, and on the following day we ascended the valley of
the Wharfe to Arncliffe, visiting on the way the picturesque
ruin called Barden Tower, and the magnificent hanging
crags at Kilnsea.

At Arncliffe, a quaint moor village, my companion fell
lame, and was unable to accompany me next day on a
mapless ramble in search of whatsoever was picturesque
and wild. It was a glorious day, the sky pure and blue,
the air elastic, the heather and fern twinkling with dew.

* Contributed by me to Once a Week, March, i J

io8 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

It was really very hard for poor Keene to spend ten hours
alone in a dismal little country inn, without either a book
or a newspaper, whilst I was brushing through the heather,
scrambling limestone scaurs, and exploring ravines, inhaling
at every breath life and health and ozone. But it served
him right. What was the fellow thinking of when he put
on a pair of new boots for his walking expedition ? He
looked wistfully after me out of the parlour window, and
called to me to be back for a dinner-tea at seven, adding
that he hoped his feet would be better in the afternoon, and
then he would stroll to meet me.

Leaving Arncliffe, and noticing a bright, fretful little
stream dashing through a broken and beautiful cleft in the
hills, I took a sheep-track above it, and determined on fol-
lowing its course. In a few minutes I seemed to have left
civilisation behind me entirely. The great expanse of
moorland which opened before, the utter absence of all
signs of cultivation, the wild rocky pile of the Hard Flask
on one side and of Fountains Fell on the other, gave the
scene a savage grandeur which one hardly expects to find
in England. The little beck moaned far away below me
out of sight, the wind soughed pleasantly among the
heather, and the curlew, which I constantly started, rose
with a melancholy pipe and flew away to the grey scaurs on
the side of Fountains Fell.

Being of the geological persuasion, I usually carry about
with me a hammer and a small sack or pouch, which I sling
round my neck, for the conveyance of specimens. I
revelled in these limestone hills, spending hour after hour
chipping off fragments of rock, and breaking them up to
extract the fossils. I hardly knew whither I rambled, but
I certainly got into Silverdale, for I lunched on my bread

The Boggart of Hcllcn-Pot. 109

and cheese with Penigent towering above me on the west,
and beyond it rose the glorious pile of Ingleborough. I
ascended Penigent, the height of which is 2270 feet, and
watched the sunset from the top. Then I followed the
precedent of the illustrious King of France who, having
marched to the top of a hill, marched down again. But I
was quite out in my geography. Now, with the map before
me, I see that my ideas as to the direction in which Arn-
cliffe lay were entirely wrong. My walk during the day had
been of such a zig-zag nature that I had lost my compass
points, and had made no landmarks. The consequence
naturally was, that I descended Penigent on the wrong
side, and then instinctively perceiving I was in the wrong,
I did a foolish thing — I struck off from line of course at
right angles. It would have been better for me to have
retraced my steps up the mountain-side, and taken bearings
again whilst there was still a little light ; but instead of
doing so, I involved myself more and more in confusion,
and at last, as it became dark, I was utterly ignorant of
where I was, and which was the direction in which my face
was turned.

Under such circumstances a man is tempted to allow
himself to be that which in a brighter hour he would repu-
diate— a fool. 1 remember mentally expressing my con-
viction that I was an idiot, and indignantly asking myself
how I could have thought of setting out on a walk in an
unknown country without map or compass? My exaspera-
tion with self was by no means allayed when I tripped over
a stone and fell my length in a sludgy patch of swamp. At
the same time I became conscious of a growing pain in my
vitals, and was sensible of a vacuum in that region of the
body which is situated beneath the -lower buttons of tfa 1

1 1 o Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

waistcoat ; and a vacuum is what nature is well known to
abhor. There was a dinner-tea spread for me in the inn at
Arncliffe : chickens and ham I knew had been promised :
trout I naturally anticipated would prove part of the fare
in a famous fishing district; veal cutlets perhaps, and
mashed potatoes. Heavens ! and I not there. I know I
groaned at the thought, for the sound as it issued from my
lips startled me. As I walked on with drooping head, those
veal cutlets and mashed potatoes rose up before me taunt-
ingly. I am a man of resolution, and finding that the
vision only aggravated matters, I beat the veal cutlets
clown ; yet, when they vanished, a new phantom rose to
distress me. During the day I had examined on the slopes
of Coska, Fountains, and Penigent several of those curious
pots which are peculiar to the Yorkshire limestone moors.
These pots, as they are called, are natural wells, hideous
circular gaping holes opening perpendicularly into the^
bowels of the mountain. In rainy weather the tiny rills
which descend the fells precipitate themselves into these
black gulfs and disappear. Far down at the bottom of the
mountain the streams bubble out again from low-browed
caverns. Some of these pots are many hundred feet deep,
some are supposed by the vulgar to be unfathomable, for
certainly their bottoms have not been sounded yet, and a
stone dropped falls and falls, each rebound becoming
fainter, but the ear catches no final splash.

Now, the number of these frightful holes I had stumbled
upon during the day made me fear lest in the darkness I
should come upon one, and tumble down it without hope of
ever coming up alive, or indeed of my bones receiving
Christian burial. It was now in vain for me to endeavour
to revive the dream of veal cutlets in order to obliterate

The Boggart of Hellen-Pott 1 1 1

the hideous image of these pots ; the pots maintained the
day, and haunted me till — till I suddenly became conscious
of some one walking rapidly after me, endeavouring appa-
rently to overtake me. The conviction came upon me
with relief, and I stood still, eagerly awaiting the individual,
expecting at length to be put in the right direction. The
stars gave light enough for me to discern the figure as that
of a man, but I could scarcely discover more. His walk
was strange, a wriggle and duck accompanying each step,
the reason being, as I ascertained on his coming alongside
of me, that he was a cripple in both legs.

" Good evening, friend," said I ; " I'm a stranger lost on
the moor : can you direct me towards Arncliffe ? "

"On, on with me," was the answer, and the hand was
waved as though pointing forward.

" Dark night this," I said.

" Darker below," he muttered, as though to himself ;
" Darker, darker, darker."

11 Shall we have a bit of moon, think you, presently ? "

He made no answer, and I turned to look at him.

There was something in the way he walked which made
me uneasy. When he took a step with his right foot he
worked his body round facing me, and then his head jogged
on to his left shoulder and reclined upon it. When he
stepped out with his left foot his body revolved so that his
back was presented to me, and the head was jerked on to
the right shoulder. I noticed that he never held his head
upright ; sometimes it dropped on his breast, and once I
saw it drop backwards. The impression forced itself on
me that just thus would a man walk who had his neck and
legs broken, if by any means the possibility were afforded
him to attempt a promenade.

ii2 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents,

" How far to Arncliffe ? " I asked, but he vouchsafed no
answer. I tried another question or two, but could obtain
no reply. I lost my temper, and laid my hand on his
shoulder to draw his attention to what I was inquiring, but
with a wriggle he glided from under my hand, and hobbled
on before me.

I had no resource but to follow him. He kept ahead
of me, and seemed determined not to enter into conversa-
tion ; yet I offered him half-a-crown if he would give me the
information I desired to obtain.

I was puzzled with my strange companion, and felt some-
what uneasy. I felt that he was a bit " uncanny " both in
his appearance and in his manner.

Presently we came near water, as I judged by the sound,
which was that of a beck murmuring among- stones. On
went my conductor, following the water-course, and so
rapidly that I had difficulty in keeping up with him. When
he leaped on a stone or scrambled up a turf-hummock, so
as to stand against the horizon, where a feeble light still
lingered, I could distinguish the horrible contortions of his
body, and the sight invariably heightened my uneasiness.

Suddenly I missed him !

I called — but there was no reply ! I stood still and
listened, but heard nothing save the bubbling of the stream,
and, far, far away, the to-whoo of an owl.

Noiselessly a bat fluttered past me, coming instanta-
neously out of the blackness of the night, and vanishing
back into it as instantaneously.

" I say, you fellow ! " hallooed I to the vanishing guide.

" You fellow ! " answered the scaurs of Penigent, in a
lower key.

"To-whoo,*' faintly called the owl.

The Boggart of Helle7i-Pot. 1 1 3

" What do you mean by deserting me like this ? " I roared.

" Like this," muttered the echo. " To-whoo," responded
the owl.

" I must follow the beck," I said ; " that will lead me to
the river, and the river will guide me to some habitation of
living man."

" Living man," growled the echo. u To-whoo," sang
the owl.

I stumbled over the water-worn stones, and splashed into
water. My ankles were scarified, my shins bruised ; I nar-
rowly escaped breaking my bones as I fell again and
again. I did not dare leave the stream, lest I should lose
my way.

Then a nightjar began to hiss from among the rocks, and
the stream to dash along more wildly. The banks rose
higher, and I seemed to be walking through a railway
cutting. I looked up, and saw the rugged outline of rock
and furze on the eastern bank, and on top of a huge block
stood a distorted human figure. It was that of my strange
companion.

Down the slope he came with wriggle and jump j he came
straight towards me, spread out his arms — in a moment
they were clasped round me, and I was lifted from my feet.
I was so astonished that I made no resistance at first, and
it was only after he had taken a dozen steps with me, and I
heard the plash of the beck falling into what must be a pot,
and saw the black yawning hole open before me, and felt
the man bending as though about to leap down it with
me in his arms, that I tore my right arm loose, and
caught at a young rowan-tree which leaned over the gulf.

At the same moment there flashed before my eyes the
light of a lanthorn, the flame small and yellow, yet surfi-
vol. ir. 1

ii4 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

cient to illumine the face of the bearer — a young woman,
the countenance wondrously beautiful, but full of woe
unutterable.

The lanthorn passed across the open mouth of the pot.
The moment it became visible the arms which held me
were unclasped, and I saw the man sink down the abyss,
with the light reflected from his upturned face. He went
down it, not with a whizz as a fallen stone, but slowly, as a
man might sink in water. Thus I was well able to observe
his blanched face and wide dilated eyes fixed with horror
on the lanthorn flame.

Having recovered my feet, naturally my first impulse was
to run up the bank, and get as far as possible from the ugly
well into which I might have been precipitated. My next
was to look round for the young woman who bore the
light. I could see the lanthorn at some little distance, but
I could not distinguish the bearer.

I called to her ; she lifted the light till her hand came
within its radiance. The small white hand beckoned me
to follow.

I ran to catch her up, but the faster I pursued, the swifter
glided the flame before me. Evidently the bearer did not
desire to be overtaken. When I stopped, she stopped ;
when I advanced, she moved onwards ; always keeping the
same distance ahead of me. So we must have proceeded
for a couple of miles, when suddenly the light went out,
and at the same instant I became conscious of a small
farm-house lying before me.

In less time than it takes me to write this I had entered
the enclosure which surrounded it, and had rapped hastily
at the door. A gaunt moorland farmer opened it, and
looked at me with surprise.

The Boggart of Hellen-Pot. 1 1 5

" Can you let me have shelter for a little while, and then
a guide to Amcliffe ? " I asked. " I have lost my way, and
have met with a strange adventure, which has somewhat
shaken my nerves."

"Sit here; come here; sit thee down there," he said,
pointing to the ingle corner with the stem of his pipe, and
then closing and bolting the door, he stalked over to the
opposite corner and sat down on a rocking chair. He eyed
me musingly, and smoked steadily without making any
remark. After having puffed away for ten minutes, he
shouted at the top of his voice —

" Gi'e him a glass of ale, lass."

"A'm boune to, lad," replied a voice from the back-
kitchen ; and looking over my shoulder, I noticed that
there was a woman in the little lean-to back room, "fettling
up" by the light of a rush-candle.

" Thou'rt none boune to Amcliffe to-neet ? " said the man,
slowly withdrawing his pipe from his mouth.

"I am, if you will direct me," I replied, " for I have a
friend there who is expecting me, and who will be sorely
put out at my non-appearance earlier."

" Humph ! " He smoked for ten minutes more, and then
said —

u And what brought thee this road ? "

" I will tell you," I replied ; and then proceeded to relate
what had happened to me. As soon as I mentioned the
strange companion I had met with —

"It's t' Boggart, lass!" called the farmer to his wife,
"he's gotten agait misleading folk again."

When I spoke of the flash of light before which the man
had quailed, and which had revealed the face of a woman,
pale and sad, bending over it —

1 1 6 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

" Weel done, Peggy ! " roared the farmer ; " 'tis no but
Peggy wi' t' lanthorn, lass " — again to his wife.'

" She's a good 'un," responded the lady from the kitchen.
" Who are the Boggart and Peggy ? " I asked ; " they
seem to be intimate acquaintances of yours."

The great Yorkshireman did not answer, but whiffed
away, with his dreamy eyes fixed on the fire.

" So t' Boggart thowt to ha' hugged thee down Pothoile !"
Then he laughed. u I reckon," mused he again, " I reckon
he were a bit flayed to see Peggy come anent him that
road ! "

" I wish," said I, " that you would tell me all about him
and her."

u So I will, lad, bi'm bye, if thou'rt boune to Arncliffe
to-neet." He looked up at me. " We can gi'e thee a bed if
thou likes : it's no but a poor one, but it's none so bad— eh,
lass ? " The last two words were shouted to his wife.
" Ay, ay," she replied, from the kitchen.
" Thank you very kindly," said I ; "if it were not for my
friend at Arncliffe, I would accept your offer with alacrity ;
but as it happens, I must return there to-night."

" Gi'e us a leet, lass ! " called the man, knocking the
ashes from his pipe, rising, and taking down a lanthorn.

The good woman lighted the candle for him, and the
great Yorkshireman shut the lanthorn door, took up his cap,
and said to me —

" Now, if thou'rt boune to come, come on."
I rose and followed him. He led the way, and as we
walked towards Arncliffe he told me the following tale : —

" Some hundred years ago there lived a young woman in
a cottage near Kettlewell. A strange man came into the
neighbourhood, gained her affections, and married her.

The Boggart of He lien- Pot. 1 1 7

They settled at the little farm in which my guide now
resided. They had not lived a twelvemonth together before
the constables entered the house one evening, and took the
man up on the charge of bigamy. He had a wife and
family living at Bolton, in Lancashire. As they were
carrying him off, he broke from them and fled over the
moors, and was never retaken. By some it was supposed
that he had escaped to America, but by others that he had
fallen into one of the pots and had perished. His poor
second wife, heart-broken, wandered all that night searching
for him, and was found dead on the side of Penigent next
morning. And they say," added my guide, in a low voice,
"that she seeks him still ; and when she's gotten him she'll
tak' him before the throne of God to be sentenced for
having ruined her happiness, and been the cause of her
death. That's why he's so flayed (afraid) of meeting wi
she, and sma' blame to him."

" So you think the wretched man perished in one of the
pots ? "

" I reckon he did. And he'll never have rest till his
bones are laid i' t' churchyard, and that'll never be."

" Farmer," said I, after a pause, " have you plenty of
rope about your house ? "

He grunted an assent.

"Then I will descend the pot to-morrow.''

I am sorry to state here that my companion was so com-
pletely thrown off his balance by this announcement that
he swore.

" Shall you have time to assist me?" I asked.

" I'm none particular thronged," he replied.

"Some additional help will be needed," I continued; "if
you have a workman or two disposed to earn a day's wage

1 1 8 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

by being useful to me, bid them be ready with all that is
requisite at the mouth of the pot to-morrow."

" Ay ! if we can addle us a bit brass that road," re-
sponded the farmer, " we're t' chaps for thee. But I reckon
thou'rt no but making gam' of me."

" I am not, indeed," I replied ; " get plenty of rope
ready, and a stout pole laid across the mouth of the hole,
and I will go down to-morrow."

I was as good as my word. Keene accompanied me
next day to the little farm, and there we found half-a-dozen
men with ropes and windlass ready to assist in the exploit.

As the sun was shining, I felt no fear whatever, and I
laughed and chatted whilst a belt was strapped round my
waist, another under my arms, and the cord passed beneath
them. Before descending 1 took up my geological bag
and slung it vound my neck ; I also picked up my hammer.

"You may be sure I shall find some magnificent stalac-
tites down there," said I.

" Are you ready ? ". asked Keene.

I sat on the edge of the gulf under the mountain ash to
which I had clung for life the night before. I directed my
eyes downwards, and saw the little stream lose itself in
spray after a leap or two. How awfully black the abyss
seemed ! " Now, then ! " I slipped down, and the wind-
lass was slowly unwound. Click, click, click ! I heard each
sound of the crank as it descended. The air about me
was cold and damp. Beautiful ferns and mosses flourished
on every ledge ; presently, however, I got beyond the fern
zone. I was in darkness. The spray of the falling stream
was so finely comminuted that it was more like mist than
spray. The walls of the pot were green with lichen, and
now I was below the region of mosses. Here, on a little

The Boggart of Hellen-Pot. 1 1 9

patch of moist Marchanta polymorpha, I found a poor but-
terfly, the common meadow brown. It had probably flut-
tered some way down the chasm in the giddiness of the
moment, its wings had been clogged with spray, and it had
been carried lower and lower till at last it had alighted,
dripping and chilled, without hope of seeing sunlight again,
on a small ledge covered with lichen. I rescued the poor
insect, and put it inside my hat. I began to swing like a
pendulum, and at one time had some difficulty in prevent-
ing myself from striking the rocky sides.

I could not see the walls now ; I could not hear the click
of the windlass. All below was perfectly black j not a sign
of a bottom ; but white terraces, covered with stalagmite,
gleamed up round the well-like ribs, catching a little light
from above. With my hammer I broke off a large mass of
deposit formed by the droppings of water largely impreg-
nated with lime. It whizzed down, but still I heard no
final splash. I shouted — only faintly, as the pressure on
my lungs from the belt prevented my using my voice to its
full extent — but the whole well seemed alive with echoes.
I tried to turn my head and look up at the sky, but I was
unable. The darkness and chill began to tell upon me,
and an agonising cramp contracted my logs. However, I
managed to place my feet upon a ledge, and to stand up.
Those working the windlass, feeling that the strain was oft*
the rope, let out no more. When the cramp left me, I cast
myself off again, and dropped below the ledge. After a
while I began to hear a sound of falling water, and in
a few minutes passed an opening in the side of the pit, out
of which gushed an underground stream, and precipitated
itself down the chasm.

Now I became conscious of a broad ledge of rock, ex-

1 20 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

tending considerably out into the well, and contracting its
size; something lay upon it — fragments of broken stalactites
and stalagmites, I fancied — what they were I could not dis-
tinguish, especially as at the same moment that I saw them
I perceived something black rising towards me. In one
second I saw the face of the Boggart flash up at me full of
hideous triumph, and I felt the grip of his arms about my
waist. Next moment I lost all consciousness.

When I came 'to myself I was lying in the sunshine on
the slope above the pot — Hellen or Hull-pot is its name —
with Keene and the farmer bending anxiously over me.

" I am all right," said I, in a low voice ; and in a couple
of minutes I was sufficiently recovered to sit up.

I took off my hat, and away flew the butterfly I had
rescued, oblivious of the hours of darkness and misery it
had passed through.

" Did you reach the bottom ? " asked Keene. I shook
my head.

u We let out all the rope we had," said my friend, " and
then we pulled up again, and found you at the end in a
dead faint. I see you have not been idle," he added,
lifting my geological bag. " Full of stalactites, I suppose,"'
and as he shook it the contents rattled.

" No," said I, " I put nothing into it."

" Then how comes it filled ? " he asked. " Why, halloo !
what have we here?" and he emptied out of it a heap of
human bones and a shattered skull. How they got into
the sack I shall never know. The remains were very old,
and were encrusted with stalagmite. They lie now in
Horton churchyard. I believe the Boggart has not been
seen since.

The Boggart of Hellen-Pot. 1 2 1

For a considerable time during our walk from Malham
Tarn to Settle I had been silent. Keene could endure it
no longer, and at last exclaimed, "Really this is intolerable!
You have been in a brown study for the last half-hour
without speaking a word. A penny for your thoughts ! "

"To tell you the truth," I replied, "I have been thinking
over what might have happened if you had fallen lame at
Arncliffe, if I had gone on a geological walk without you,
and had lost my way on Penigent, and had fallen in with a
Boggart, who tried to precipitate me down a pot, and if I
had been rescued by an ignis fatuus, and had finally
descended the pot and brought up the Boggart's bones ! "

Mr. Keene stared at me with amazement. I then
related to him what I have just related to you, good reader,
and I concluded with the observation : " All this, you
know, might have happened, but unfortunately it didn't.
You have had my thoughts, so hand me your penny.

122 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

THE REV. THOMAS BROWN,

POET OF LASTIXGHAM.

HOMAS, son of the Rev. Thomas Brown, of
Lastingham, near Kirby Moorside, was born
in 177 1, and at the age of two was deprived of
his father. His mother remained at Lasting-
ham, and the child was brought up in that village,
secluded among the hills, so rich in early associations.
It was thence that St. Chad was drawn by Theodore of
Canterbury to fill the see of Lichfield, and before that time
his brother Cedd had retired thither, after having founded
the Church among the East Angles, and been consecrated
Bishop of London.

After Thomas Brown had received the rudiments of his
education in such schools as the neighbourhood possessed,
he was placed under the Rev. Joseph Milner, at Hull, for
classical instruction. On the completion of his studies
he took the mastership of a school at Yeddingham, near
Pickering, which he retained for nearly four years, and
acquired the love and esteem of his pupils.

Thence he removed to Bridlington, where he had a
larger school.

In 1797, when he was twenty-six years old, he removed

Rev. Thomas BroivJi, of Lastingha,7n. 123

to Hull, and became editor of a weekly newspaper called
the Hull Advertiser, which had been established some
years before, and in which, while he resided at Brid-
lington, several of his poetical compositions and prose
essays had appeared, under the signature of " Alexis."

He now entered holy orders, and undertook the tuition
of two young gentlemen from Bridlington Quay, who were
sent to board with him in Hull.

He married in October, 1797, but died on January 7th,
1798, at the early age of twenty-six.

A volume of Mr. Brown's poems was published after his
death, in 1800. at Hull. They are not, for the most part,
remarkable, except for the gentle, genial spirit which
breathes through them. They are unsuited to the taste of
the present day, which is impatient of odes and elegies,
addresses to Genius, Rage ; sonnets to Cleanthe, Delia ;
hymns to Contentment, and effusions on Melancholy.
But through all breaks out a love of country scenes, and
a longing for the moorside flowers of Lastingham. He
writes to his mother there, however, to condole with her
on the dulness of the Yorkshire peasantry of the wolds,
and pities her want of some intelligent companions to share
her thoughts : —

Rude as the soil, the sunburnt rustic roves,
Through flow'ry meadows and through leafy groves ;
Yet sees no beauties in the fertile plain,
But as his crops or herds increase his gain.
Their dowdy dames deserve no higher praise ;
Such like employments too consume their days.
No higher aim their homely wishes mean
Than cheeses firm, eggs plenty, butter clean ;

1 24 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

No other subject e'er employs their tongues
But what to their domestic toil belongs ;
If scandal e'er for higher power should call,
But a dull tale you hear — and that is all.

One recoils in these days from a poem that opens with —

All hail, thou potent energy of mind !
Fancy and judgment in one point combined.

Or with—

Hail, great effulgent source of light !
Whose beams disperse the shades of night,
And bring the gladsome day.

And when page after page follows, containing stuff of this
sort, which delighted our grandfathers, it is with no less
surprise than pleasure that we suddenly light on two or three
perfect little Yorkshire pieces, as fresh and clear from all
affectation as one of Barnes's Dorsetshire rhymes, or
Waugh's Lancashire ballads, of the present day.

The editor of Brown's poems only admits them into his
collection with hesitation and an apology. But for them
the volume might have gone to the paper-mills, and Mr.
Brown's name have faded for ever from remembrance.

The editor says : — " The specimens of Yorkshire dialect
have been greatly admired by every one whose habits of
life qualify him to appreciate their merits. In my opinion
they contain the most faithful representations of modern
rustic manners, and the best imitation of rustic language
that has yet appeared. Perhaps some, disgusted with
the vulgarity of the language and sentiments, may think
the imitation too close, and that the coarseness of clownish

Rev. Thomas Brown, of Lastingham. 125

manners ought to be somewhat softened in poetry. They
will, however, afford great pleasure to every one conversant
in the habits and dialect of the Yorkshire villagers, and on
that account they are inserted."

What an apology for such a perfect little piece as the
following : —

When I was a wee little tottering bairn,

An' had nobbut just gitten short frocks;
When to gang I at first war beginnin' to laim,

On my brow I got monie hard knocks :
For se waik, an' se silly, an' helpless was I,

I was always a-tumbling down then,
While me mother would twattle me gently, and cry,

" Honey Jenny ! tak' care o' thysen."

When I grew bigger, an' gat to be Strang,

'At I cannily ran all about
By mysen, whor I lik'd, then I always mud gang

Bithout bein' tell'd about ought.
When, however, I com' to be sixteen year auld,

An' rattled and ramp'd amang men,
My mother wad call o' me in, an' would scauld,

And cry — " Huzzy ! tak' care o' thysen."

I've a sweetheart comes now upo' Setterday nights,

An' he swears 'at he'll mak' me his wife —
My mam grows se sting}-, she scaulds and she flytes,

And she twitters me out of my life.
But she may leuk sour an' consait hersen wise,

An' preach again likin' young men ;
Sen I's grown a woman her clack I'll despise,

And I'se — mairy ! — tak' care o' mysen.

126 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

Hardly, if at all, inferior to this charming little poem is
the following : —

Ye loit'ring minutes faster flee,
Y'are all owre slow by half for me,

That wait impatient for the morning;
To-morn's the lang, lang wish'd-for fair ;
I'll try to shine the foremost there,

Mysen in finest claes adorning,
To grace the day.

I'll put my best white stockings on,
And pair of new cauf leather shoon,

My clain wash'd gown o' printed cotton ;
Aboot my neck a muslin shawl,
A new silk handkerchee owre all,

Wi' sike a careless air I'll put on —
I'll shine this day.

My partner Ned, I no' thinks he,
He'll mak' hissen secure o' me,

He's often sed he'd treat me rarely ;
But I'se think o' some other fun —
I'll aim for some rich farmer's son,

And cheat our simple Neddy fairly,
Se sly this day !

Why mud I not succeed as weel,
And get a man full out genteel,

As au'd John Darby's daughter Nelly ?
I think mysen as good as she,
She can't mak' cheese or spin like me ;

That's mair 'an beauty, let me tell ye,
On onie day.

Rev. Thomas Brown, of Lastingham. 127

Then hey i for sports and puppy shows,
And temptin' spice-stalls rang'd in rows,

And danglin' dolls by t' necks all hanging;
And thousand other pretty seets,
And lasses traul'd alang the streets,

Wi' lads to t' yall-house gangin'
To drink this day.

Let's letch a't o' t' winder ; I can see't,
It seems as tho' 'twas growan leet,

The clouds wi' early rays adorning ;
Ye loit'ring minutes faster flee,
Ye're all owre slow be half for me,

'At wait impatient for the morning
O' sick a day.

" Disgusted with the vulgarity of the language and senti-
ments," some may wish " that the coarseness of clownish
manners ought to be somewhat softened in poetry " !
Burns never wrote more charming vernacular verses than
those of Thomas Brown. Here is another —

I leotly lov'd a lass r'ght wool,

Was beautiful and witty ;
But all I sed (an' it was a deal)

Could never raise her pity,

Or mak' her love me.

I tell'd her owre and owre again

(Did monie reasons render)
She'd never fynd another swain

Wad be se fond and tender,

If she'd bud love me.

28 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

I'd tent my sheep i' field or faud
Wi' spirits light and cheary,

Thro' summer's heat and winter's cau'd,
If she wad be my deary,

And say she'd love me.

I's nobbut a poor shepherd lad,
My hands aleean mainteean me :

Waes me ! weel may I be sad
That makes the lass disdeean me,
'At winnot love me.

I thowt at first, i' my despair,
I'd gang and get me 'listed,

And bravely meet death i' the war,
Because the lass insisted

She wad not love me.

But now I've teean another mind,
I'll try to quite forget her ;

Another lass may be mair kind
I'se like as weel or better,

An' she may love me.

Awd Daisy : an Eclogue.
Goorgy and Robert.

Goorgy.

Weel meet, good Robert ! saw ye my awd meer

I've lated her an hour, i' t' loonin' here ;

But howsumiver, spite of all my care,

I cannot spy her, mowther heead nor hair !

Rev. Thomas Brozu?i, of Lastingham. 129

Robert.

Whah, Goorgy, I've te teyl ye dowly news,
Syke as I's varra seer will mak' ye muse ;
I just this minnit left your poor awd tyke
Dead as a steean i' Johnny Dobson's dyke.

Goorgy.

Whoor ! what's that, Robin ? tell us owre ageean ;
You're joking, or you've mebby been mistean.

Robert.

Nay, marry, Goorgy, I seer I can't be wrang,
You kno' I've keyn't awd Daisy now se lang ;
Her bread-ratch'd feeace, an' twa white hinder-legs
Preav'd it was her, as seer as eggs is eggs.

Goorgy.

Poor thing! what deead, then? — had she laid there lang?
Whor abouts is she ? Robert, will ye gang ?

Robert.

I care nut, Goorgy, I han't much te dea,
A good hour's labour, or may happen twea ;
Bud as I niwer like to hing behynd
When I can dea kaundness tiv a frynd,
An' I can help ye wi my hand or team,
I'll help to skin her, or to bring her heam.

Goorgy.

Thank ye, good Robert. I can't think belike
How t' poor awd creature tumbled inte t' dyke.

VOL. II. K

1 30 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

Robert.
Ye maund she'd fun hersen just gaun te dee,
An' sea laid down by t' side (as seems to me),
An' when she felt the pains o' death within,
She fick'd an' struggled, an' se towpled in.

Goorgy.

Meast lickly ; bud — what, was she dead outreet
When ye furst gat up ? — when ye gat t' furst seet ?

Robert.
You'se hear : as I was gaun down t' looan, I spy'd
A scoore or mair o' crows by t' gutter side,
All se thrang hoppin' in and hoppin' out,
I wonder'd what i' the warld they were about.
I leuks, an' then I sees an awd yode laid
Gaspin' an' pantin' there, an' ommost dead ;
An' as they picked its een, and picked ageean,
It just cud lift its leg, and give a grean ;
But when I fand awd Daisy was their prey,
I wav'd my hat, and shoo'd 'em all away.
Poor Daise ! — ye maund, she's now woorn fairly out,
She's lang been quite hard sett te trail about.
But younder, Goorgy, loo' ye whoor she's laid,
An' twe 'r three Nanpies chatt'rin' owre her head.

Goorgy.

Aye, marry ! this I nivver wish'd to see,
She's been se good, se true a frynd te me !
An' is thou cum te this, my poor awd meer ?
Thou's been a trusty sarvant monny a year,
An' better treatment thou's desarv'd fra me
Than thus neglected in a dyke te dee !

Rev. T/iomas Brown, of Last 'ingham. 131

Monny a daywark we ha' wrought togither,
An' bidden mony a blast o' wind and weather;
Monny a lang dree mahle, owre moss an' moor,
An' monny a hill and deeal we've travell'd owre ;
But now, weeas me ! thou'll never trot ne mair,
Te nowther kirk nor market, spoort nor fair ;
An' now, for t' future, thoff I's awd and leam,
I mun be foorc'd te walk, or stay at heam.
Ne mair thou'll bring me cooals fra' Blakay brow,
Or sticks fra' t' wood, or turves fra' Leaf how cow.
My poor awd Daise ! afoor I dig thy greeave,
Thy weel-worn shoon I will for keep-seeakes seeave ;
Thy hide, poor lass ! I'll hev it taun'd wi' care,
'Twill mak' a cover te my awd arm-chair,
An' pairt an appron for my wife te weear
When cardin' woul or weshin' t' parlour fleer.
Deep i' t' cawd yearth I will thy carcase pleeace,
'At thy poor beans may lig and rest i' peeace ;
Deep i' t' cawd yearth, 'at dogs mayn't scrat thee out,
An' rahve thy flesh, an' trail thy beeans about
Thou's been se faithful for se lang te me,
Thou sannut at thy death neglected be ;
Seyldom a Christian 'at yan now can fynd,
Wad be mair trusty or mair true a frynd.

The following is also almost certainly by the same author,
although it does not appear in his published volume of
poems. The dialect is of the same part — the vales that run
into the hills called to the north Cleveland, and to the west
the Hambledons. The date is the same as that given
above, and it is equal to them in merit. It is immeasurably
superior to various other rhymed dialogues that appear in

132 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

several chap-book " Specimens of Yorkshire Dialect," and
breathes the same dry humour and delicacy of feeling that
characterise Brown's Yorkshire pieces.

A Dialogue on the present indecent Mode of
Dress.

Simon.
Good morrow, Johnny, hoo deea ye deea ?
If you're boune my rooad, A'll gang wi' ye.
Hoo cawd this morning t' wind dus blaw ;
Ah think we seean sail hae sum snaw.

Johnny.
Heigh, Simon, seea we sail ere lang.
Ah's boune to t' toon ; Ah wish ye'd gang,
For Ah've a dawghter leeatly deead, —
Ah's boune te git her caffin meead.

Simon.
Heigh ! Johnny, deead ! whah seer you're wrang,
For she wur wi' us e'er seea lang ;
An' oft wi' her, i' yonder booer,
Ah've jooake'd an' laugh'd full monny an hoor.
Bud first, good Johnny, tell me this,
What meead her dee ? what/s been amiss ?

Johnny.

To tell thee, Simon, noo Ah's boune : —
Thoo sees Ah sent her to yon toon
To t' skeeal, an' next to leearn a trade,
By which she was te git her breead ;
Bud when she first cum yam to me,
She had neea petticoats, ye see ;

Rev. Thomas Brown, of Lastingham. 133

At first Ah fan she'd bud her smock,
An' ower that her tawdry frock ;
Sike wark as this it rais'd my passion,
An' then she tell'd me — it was t' fassion ;
Besides, her appron, efter all,
She'd quite misteean it for a shawl j
A sartin sign she sense did lack —
She'd teean and thrown it ower hur back.
Hur shoon had soles sa varra thin,
They'd nought keep out, but let wet in ;
And round her neck she lapp'd a ruff
Of rabbit skin, or sum sike stuff,
Instead of wearing a good cloak,
Te keep hur warm when she did walk
Fra heame to market or to fair,
Or yance a week to church repair.
Besides, thoo sees, she had neea stays,
An' scarce aneeaf by hoaf o' clais.

Simon.

Whah, Johnny, stop, you're oot o' breath ;
Bud hoo cum she te git hur deeath ?

Johnny.

Whah, Simon, stay, an' thoo sail hear :
I' t' next pleeace, mun, hur breests wor bare ;
Hur neeaked airms teea she lik'd te show,
E'en when t' cawd bitter wind did blaw ;
An' when Ah talk'd about it then,
(You see Ah's awlus by mysen),
Hur mother awlus leeaned hur way ;
It matter'd nowght what Ah'd to say.

1 34 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

Ah tell'd my wife hoo it wad be,
An' seea she can't lig^t bleeam o' me ;
Says Ah, foore she's twice ten years awd,
She seer te git hur deeath o' cawd.
For this mishap Ah bleeam that feeal
For spoiling hur at boording skeeal ;
Noo hed she meead hur lam hur letters,
Instead o' dressing like hur betters,
She'd nut se seean hae gitten cawd,
An' meaby liv'd till she wor awd.
Ah's seer its all greeat fowk's pursuit
To hev, like Eve, a birth-day suit.

Simon.

Thoo's reeght, good Johnny, reeght, Ah say,

That Ah've obsaiVd afoore to-day ;

An' noo i' toon, as each yan passes,

Yan can't tell ladies fra bad lasses ;

An' oft Ah've thought, when t' cawd winds blaws,

They'd deea reeght weel to freeghten craws ;

For it wad blaw 'em seea aboot,

Nea cashun then ther'd be te shoott.

Just seea if that thee an' me

An ugly, monstrous thing sud see,

Away we beath sud run reeght fast,

As lang as ever we cud last.

Johnny.

Hey, Simon, seea we sud, Ah seear;
Bud noo to t' toon we're drawing neear.
Thoo needn't tell what Ah hev sed
Aboot my dawghter being deead.

Rev. Thomas Brown, of Lastingham. 135

Good morrow, Simon, fare thee well.
Ah say, noo mind thoo doesn't tell.

Simen.
Nea, that Ah weean't whall Ah hev breath ;
Ah'll nobbut say, she 's starved* to death.

It may perhaps be fair to the author to give at least one
specimen of his more ambitious compositions, but it is
difficult to find among them one that is really worth repro-
duction. Perhaps the best is the following ode, which is
not without merit : —

To the Spring.
Keenly o'er the wide heath sweeping,

Wintry blasts still vex the plain ;
Clad in daisies, early peeping,

When will spring return again ?
Soon, ah ! soon, on genial wing,
Life and love and pleasure bring.

Careful o'er the ploughshare bending,

Bid the swain resume his toil ;
And with grain in store attending,

Bid the sower strew the soil :
Soon, ah ! soon, on genial wing,
Hopes of future harvests bring.

'Mid the pine trees, lonely cooing,

Let the plaintive turtle wail ;
Each his mate the warblers wooing,

Bid them chant their am'rous tale :
Thy return, on genial wing,
Then each vocal grove shall sing.
• Frozen.

1 36 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

Bid the gentle showers water,

Let enliv'ning Phoebus warm ;
Then again reviving Nature

Shall disclose her ev'ry charm :
Soon refreshing zephyrs bring
All the breathing sweets of spring.

Yet with anxious thought pursuing,

Causes of well-grounded fear ;
Scenes of want and sorrow viewing,

Pity drops the silent tear ;
But with speed all-cheering spring
Better hopes and prospects bring.

In Kirkleatham hospital, a curious double almshouse
founded by a Sir John Turner in the seventeenth cen-
tury, near Redcar, in the museum of the institution,
are portions of a tree. It had been cut down in
the park, and divided into lengths for the purpose of
converting it into firewood ; but upon its being split
by the woodman's wedge, the heart of the tree turned
out round and entire, the outer part which enclosed
it being about the thickness of four inches. Round the
inner bole, or heart, which is about a foot in diameter, are
several letters carved rudely, and at first sight apparently
irregular ; but upon closer examination they are found to
wind round the wood in a spiral form, and the following
couplet is plainly legible : —

This tree long time witness beare,
Two true lovers did walk here.

Underneath are the initials of the two "true lovers,"
and, if I remember aright, a couple of hearts transfixed by
an arrow.

Rev. Thorn xs Brown, of Lastingham. 137

This must have been cut in the bark in Queen Eliza-
beth's time, judging by the rings in the tree. Year after
year the bark grew over the wounds and buried them. The
tender inner corticle had been wounded, and retained the
scars ; every trace of the inscription had long disappeared
outside, and when the tree was grown to a full size, it was
cut down last century. Then, when the wood was being
split, the outer case fell off, disclosed the naked heart, and
the faithful witness did bear token after long time that " two
true lovers did walk here."

It is singular that the tree should thus have seemed
mindful of the trust confided to it. The incident struck
Mr. Brown, and he wrote upon it some lines of no great
beauty. Indeed the circumstance itself is a poem, only
spoiled by expansion into many words.

I only give a verse or two from his poem on the subject :

Long the wintry tempests braving,
Still this short inscription keep ;

Still preserve this rude engraving
On thy bark imprinted deep :

" This tree long time witness bear,

Two true lovers did walk here."

By the softest ties united,
Love has bound our souls in one j

And by mutual promise plighted,
Waits the nuptial rite alone :

Thou a faithful witness bear

Of our plighted promise here.
• •••••

On thy yielding bark engraving
Now in short our tender tale,

138 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

Long time's roughest tempests braving,

Spread thy branches to the gale ;
And for ages witness bear
Two true lovers did walk here.

It only remains to add that, judging from the portrait
of Mr. Brown, he must have had a remarkably pleasing
face. He had rather high cheek-bones, dark hair, large
brilliant dark eyes full of intelligence, an aquiline nose,
and small, delicate, but firm mouth. There is a somewhat
sad expression in his countenance, the result maybe of
consciousness that his days were numbered by the insidious
disease (decline) which had already marked him for the
grave, when his portrait was taken by Gale, of Hull.

"he Incendiary of York Minster. 139

JONATHAN MARTIN,

THE INCENDIARY OF YORK MINSTER.*

HONATHAN MARTIN was not a native of
Yorkshire, but as it was in Yorkshire that he
lived part of his time, and as his name
is inseparably connected with the glorious
Minster at York, which he partially burnt, he claims
our notice in this volume.

He was born, according to his own account, at Hexham,
in Northumberland, in 1782, of poor but honest parents,
and by them, at a suitable age, was put apprentice to a
tanner. He appears to have served his apprenticeship
with steadiness, and on its expiration, when he was in his
twenty-second year, he removed to London, intending to
travel. Soon after his arrival in the metropolis, as he was
one day viewing the Monument, a man accosted him, and
inquired if he wanted a situation. Martin told him he

* Authorities for this memoir : — " A Full and Authentic Report of
the Trial of Jonathan Martin for Setting Fire to York Minster ; with an
Account of the Life of the Lunatic'' York, Bellerby, 1S29. His
own Life, written by himself, 1S2S, 1S29. "York Castle in the
Nineteenth Century ; being an Account of the Principal Offences Com-
mitted in Yorkshire from the year 1S00. " Ly L. T. Ki.dc. L^-
1829.

1 40 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

wished to go abroad, on which the man replied that he
could suit him exactly, as a gentleman of his acquaintance
had a son on board a frigate on the Indian station, who
wanted a person of Martin's description, and would give
him thirty-two shillings per month, besides his chance of
prize-money.

Martin eagerly accepted this offer. But he soon found
that he was in the hands of a press-gang ; and he was sent
to the Nore, where he was placed on board the Her-
cules, 74 guns, which formed a part of the expedition
against Copenhagen in 1804 under Lord Nelson. After
the surrender of the Danish fleet he was drafted into
one of the prizes, an 84-gun ship, which, with a squadron
of seven other vessels, was ordered to proceed to Lisbon
to blockade the Russian fleet in the Tagus, in order to
prevent it from falling into the hands of the French.
These ships were taken by the British, and were brought to
England.

The next affair Martin mentions in his biography as
having been engaged in was in assisting to bring off the
troops from Corunna in January, 1809. He says, setting
sail from Vigo Bay —

" We reached Corunna in one day, and then approached
the shore : the numerous carcases of dead horses, all float-
ing in the bay, showed us the toil our army had suffered
We could plainly see the French and English camps from
our ships, each occupying a hill very near the other. We
made every exertion to get close in, to cover the embarka-
tion of our troops, who were sadly annoyed by the fire from
the French artillery on the heights. Our ships replied to
the French as well as the heavy sea then setting would
allow. By great exertion the whole embarkation was com-

The Incendiary of York Minster. 141

pleted. They then directed their batteries against our

transports, who had to slip their cables, and stand out of

the reach of their guns. During this scene of confusion

and terror several boats were sunk by the fire of the enemy

and some by the violence of the sea. Our vessels presented

an awful spectacle, from the number and condition of the

wounded, who occupied our cockpit*, cable tier, and every

spare place on board, and whose misery was rendered

greater by the ttmpest which arose, and prevented that

attention being paid to them which their situation required :

a great number perished solely on this account. During

the gale five transports were lost, from which only few lives

could be saved, owing to the state of the weather and the

rocky nature of the coast."

Having landed the wounded men in England, the ship
on beard which Martin was sailed for Lisbon. Of his
adventures at sea Martin tells several remarkable inci-
dents; but they are many of them connected with dreams,
and if not wilful falsehoods, are most probably misrepre-
sentations. Of such probably is what he relates as occur-
ring whilst he was at Lisbon. He says that whilst in the
Tagus the whole crew went on shore except himself, a
young negro, and the captain's wife and daughter. The
black, knowing the captain had a quantity of gold in his
chest, proposed to Martin to murder the ladies, and take
a boat and escape with it — to India, Martin says. To
this he refused to accede, and ultimately succeeded in
persuading the Indian (African ?) to abandon his dreadlul
intention. About this time, he says —

" I began to see my lost and ruined state as a sinner,
and to cry to God for mercy and salvation, hoping he would
spare me to return to my native land, when I would j. in

142 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

myself to the people of Gcd. But alas ! my vows, often
repeated, were as often broken. Notwithstanding, the Lord
heard my prayers, and restored me to my parents as safe
and well as when I left them. My deliverance from on
board a man-of-war was extraordinary, but the Lord having
given me favour in the sight of the whole crew, when all
hands were piped to breakfast, a boat appointed for the
purpose was brought under our bows, and the soldiers
formed a circle on the forecastle of the ship, to prevent the
sentry seeing what was going forward ; I dropped into the
boat and got ashore, and remained in safety at the water-
man's house until our ship sailed. I entered on board a
transport going to Egypt for corn for our troops then lying
at Messina. When I arrived in Egypt, I was filled with
delight on beholding the place where our blessed Lord took
refuge from the rage of Herod ; and where the wisdom of
Joseph (directed by Almighty God) saved the land of Egypt
and his own father's house from the effects of the seven
years' famine, of which I had so often read. A wide range
of buildings was pointed out to me by the Turks, which
they said formerly held the grain preserved by Joseph.
Reflecting on these things, led me to review my misspent
life, and to see how often God had preserved me in many
dangers, and how ill I had requited him; so that my
thoughts troubled me sore, and I resolved anew to amend
my life. I began to be comforted by reflecting that He
preserved me for wise purposes, and that I should live to
praise him. Blessed be the name of the Lord, I was not
disappointed."

A Mr. Nicoll, a native of Peterhead, who was formerly
in the navy, and was a messmate with Martin in two vessels,
of which one was the " Hercules," says —

The hicendiary of Yo)-k Minster. 143

"I remember Martin well, and sailed with him first
about 1803. He was always skittish. We used to say that
he was fitter for a parson than a sailor ; nicknamed him
Parson Saxe. He was often sulky and idle. He did not
pray much, but was inclined to argue on religious subjects;
he said he had a light that we had not, and that he held
meetings in his dreams. He told extraordinary and unac-
countable tales; but," said Mr. Nicoll, "they have gone
from me, as I treated them as fudge and palaver." Mr.
Nicoll adds that Martin was jolly as any at one time, and
would drink and dance and be merry as the rest ; at another
time he would weep bitterly. Some were angry with him,
others ridiculed him ; " but I," said Mr. Nicoll, " thought
him more rogue than fool. I remember his saying that a
book was shot from his hands at Cadiz, and that he con-
sidered it a warning from heaven. Some one told him he
should have been otherwise employed than in reading at
such a time ; in reply to which he abused the person who
rebuked him. It was my opinion that he shammed a good
deal for a sulk. He was particularly fond of viewing and
conversing about the celestial bodies, but had a dread of
any one pointing to a star,* and would not believe that
they were other worlds ; and, indeed, grew quite angry at
such an assertion. I have often said such things as a scot
(jest), to draw him on, and he has abused me. He was
hale enough, but used to complain of weakness, and, as I
thought, sham sick."

A Greenwich pensioner, who served with him, says : —
" I knew Jonathan twenty-three years ago and upwards ;

• In Yorkshire this prejudice exists strongly. A Yorkfhireman
once pulled down my hand as I pointed to the Great Bear, saying that
if I pointed to a star I should be struck dead — it was a sin.

144 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

he was a good sailor, but had fits of melancholy, and then
would talk of dying and a future state. I have often told
him that our days were fixed, and he blamed me for saying
so. I remember somebody larking in the top, and he,
Martin, fell, catching the hair of the sailor in his way; he
actually tore off a portion of his scalp ; he saved himself
by clinging to the cross-trees. He quarrelled with and
fought a man named Dobson, who died in Greenwich
Hospital some years since. They sat across a bench and
fought. Martin was beaten. He was laughed into this
quarrel."

Martin gives the following account of his escape : —

" Being on the main yard, and losing my balance, I

found myself falling ; there seemed nothing to save me

from being dashed to pieces. The loose end of the tracing

line, about an inch thick, was hanging near me. I got it

round my left hand, and grasping it with my right, the

swing of the rope, together with my weight, threw me

overboard, and I remained suspended by my arm, within

a few feet of the sea, until my shipmates came to my

assistance ; and I praised God that I received no material

injury, except my arm being a little wrenched by my weight.

Again, falling by accident out of a gun-port, my shipmates

succeeded in rescuing me when not able to help myself.

And being on the top-gallant-yard, the topping-lift broke,

and the end I was on went down like the end of a beam.

In my fall I grappled with the backstay, and brought

myself up, and landed on the cross-trees. Thus the

Almighty preserved me from death when there was no other

hope — the he:ght from the deck being about eighty feet."

He relates also the following circumstance, which was
corroborated by a Greenwich pensioner: —

The Incendiary of York Minster. 1 45

" After I was appointed to the gunners' crew, when on
our voyage to Cadiz, the gunners' yeoman, who had charge
of the stores and all the powder, shot himself through the
head in the store-room, where there were upwards of five
hundred barrels of gunpowder, and joining the place where
all our oakum and old ropes lay. When the report of the
pistol was heard in that place, the consternation became
general throughout the ship's company, as an explosion was
to be dreaded. Some were for making to the boats ; others,
more desperate, were for leaping overboard, expecting the
ship to blow up every moment. In the midst of the panic
produced, I and four of my shipmates ran below, rushed
into the stoie-room amidst the smoke, and soon extinguished
the little fire produced by the wadding of the pistol, and
then we discovered the body of the unfortunate man lying
bleeding, his brains literally strewed over the floor. Thus
did God put in our hearts to risk our lives, and by that
means save our ship's company, six hundred in number,
from an awful death."

" Martin," says one of the Greenwich pensioners, "went
with a boat's crew to get water. In crossing some buoys
he fell in ; the accident was not perceived, but we at length
missed him ; when we got him out he was all but gone.
He said we had conspired against him, but God had
delivered him. I remember this, for Dobson threatened to
thrash him if he repeated it. Martin was punished for
drunkenness, and bore it in a very cowardly manner. When
he was in the mortar-boat he sang psalms, but when we
were afterwards very near wrecked, he was as cool or
cooler than any one on board. He fell overboard whilst
assisting in hooking a shark, but was picked up almost
immediately. He got hurt in falling, and would never
vol. 11. r.

146 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

assist in the hooking again. We had many sick and dying
aboard, and the sharks often followed in our wake : we
burnt bricks and covered them with tarpauling, &c, fixing
a hook in the brick ; this the fish would swallow. Martin-
was very active in this, until his accident. After that he-
said, 'The Lord was vexed at the guile.' He hated the
Catholics."

Another pensioner, who corroborated a portion of the-
foregoing, added : " Martin was much noticed by the
officers ; but he told them many falsehoods, and at
last was generally disliked. He was at one time in such
favour with his superiors, that two men were punished for
cutting the slings of his hammock whilst he was asleep,,
which is generally passed over as a joke; but he pretended
to have been hurt by the fall. When angered, he would
swear as much as anyone, and sometimes immediately
afterwards would cry and pray. His dreams and stones
would have filled a book. I saw him years afterwards at
Portsmouth. Never knew that he had deserted; he was
continually amongst the crews of the King's ships. Went
to London with him, and he talked a good deal about
religion when at Portsmouth, but lived very loosely in
London.* Martin told me a variety of his adventures —
that he was nearly murdered by the Algerines, &c, &c,
but that he was marvellously delivered, and that God
had told him in his dreams to quit the sea. He
had a good deal of prize-money to receive, but there
was a delay in his getting it. The day he was to have.

* Neither Mr. Nicoll nor the other pensioner assert that Martin was
guilty of a loose life. Perhaps this was only on the occasion of his
visiting London with the sailor who mentions it. Mr. Nicoll says.
Martin was a moral man.

The Incendiary of York Minster. 147

it finally, he was to meet me at Rotherhithe ; he never
came, and from that time (18 10) I never saw nor heard
of him."

Martin does not tell us how long he remained in the
transport service ; but when he was paid off, he proceeded
to Newcastle to visit his parents, probably in 1810; and
then went to work with Mr. Page, a farmer at Norton, in
Durham.

" Here," he observes, " commenced that series of trials
which almost obliterated the remembrance of my former
difficulties, and which, were they not well known to many
now living, might appear to border on romance." In
reading his life, however, we can find no traces of " trials '»
which were not brought upon himself; and there is very
little of the " romantic " about them. A few months after
his residence at Norton he married, and became the father
of a son.

" I had him baptised Richard," he says. " I was deterred
from giving him my own name on account of the sins of
my youth, as I conceived if I did, the Lord might take
him away." Not long after, he dreamed that his mother
came to see him, and told him he would be hanged ;
and this dream produced a strong impression upon his
mind.

His thoughts became more directed than before to re-
ligious matters, but not without "manifold backslidings," as
he himself confessed.

At Yarm, in Yorkshire, four miles from Norton, where he
lived, was a Methodist chapel, and he used to attend
church at Norton in the morning, and chapel at Yarm in
the evening. One Sunday morning he received the Holy
Communion in the church at Norton, and in the evening

148 York ' shire Oddities and Incidents.

he was at a love-feast at the Wesleyan chapel* This was
his first formal reception into full membership with the
Methodist body. He had obtained, as he calls it,
"perfect liberty." He was converted, a new being,
emancipated from obedience to the law, being justified by
faith only.

He now began to feel strongly against the Church of
England, which taught the necessity of obedience to the
moral law even to those who walked in the Spirit. The
laxity of the clergy in going to parties, balls, and plays,
offended him.

" I knew also that I was not authorised by law to inter-
fere with the Establishment. I betook myself to fasting
and prayer, earnestly seeking direction of the Lord how I*
should proceed in this matter. I dreamed on Friday night
that a man held out to me a piece of honeycomb, of which
I did eat, and felt refreshed, and concluded this a gift
divine. I felt greatly encouraged. On Saturday I gave
away most of my working clothes among my shopmates,
having fully resolved to confess my Lord and Saviour the
next day before the congregation ; not doubting but the
step I was about to take would lead me into trouble. I
spent that night chiefly in prayer, for strength to perform
the task I had undertaken — of warning the people of their
dangerous state by their carnal security ; the necessity of
repentance and regeneration, by the operation of the Spirit ;
and finally, of their having the witness of the Holy Ghost

* As an instance of Martin's carelessness of expression, I may say
that he relates in his own biography that he attended the love-feast at
Varm half-an-hour after communion at the church at Norton. Varm
is four miles from Norton. This mistake arose from the Life being
written from his dictation by a second, who wrote half-an-hour per
afternoon.

The Incendiary of York Minster. 1 49

that their sins were blotted out through faith in a crucified
Saviour."

He accordingly entered the church with the clerk early in
the morning, and whilst the latter went to ring the bell,
Martin secreted himself in the pulpit, and remained hidden
there till the end of the prayers, when he suddenly stood
up, and gave forth as his text, S. Mark iv. 21-23, an^ began
to preach, with violent gesticulations. He was at once
removed by the churchwardens and constable, but was
allowed to remain in the church, though dislodged from the
pulpit.

About this time he was favoured, or deluded, with the
following vision : —

" I dreamed that I was called to the city gates of
London, and beheld the inhabitants tearing each other's
flesh in the most horrible manner, and I heard a voice
speak to me — ' In one day this city shall be burnt to the
ground.' And I was taken by the Spirit to the banks of a
river, and I commenced digging the earth, and cast up
several sharp-edged weapons, in particular a large axe,
stained with human blood. I took hold of it, and that
instant there appeared, as I thought, S. James, and I
struck off his head at one blow, and awoke out of my
sleep. This strange concern opprest me in the spirit, and
I said, ' This is no other than Popery and persecution are
intending to come forward amongst true Christians. Oh !
England, beware of Popery !'"

Martin now began to write letters to the clergy and other
members of the Church, " entreating them, as they valued
theit souls, to amend their lives, and flee to the blood of
sprinkling for mercy and pardon." His conduct seems to
have been so improper, so marked by a " zeal not accord-

150 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

ing to knowledge," that he was expelled the Methodist
Society ; and he complains that his religious friends were
afraid to own him — he was left alone in the world ; and, to
add to his troubles, he lost his employment. He then
went to Whitby and worked for a few weeks, but soon
returned to Norton, and from thence went to Bishop
Auckland, where he obtained employment ; and deter-
mined once more to attempt exhorting the people in the
church. He was, however, taken out by a constable ; and
then he began that practice which he appears never after-
wards to have abandoned, of posting papers on the church
doors, as a warning to the clergy and congregation. The
following is a copy of one of these singular productions : —
" Oh ! hear the word of the Lord, you clergymen, for the
mighty sword is expanded over your guilty heads ; now
shall you come to a complete dissolution ; now shall your
candlesticks be completely overthrown ; now shall your
blindness come to the light, and your shame before all the
people, for the Lord will not suffer you to deceive the work
of his hands any longer. Oh ! prepare yourselves to meet
your God, you double-hearted sinners ; cry aloud for
mercy, and now shall my God make bare his arm and
conquer the devil, your great master, for the monster of
hell shall be completely overthrown, and you and him shall
not deceive the nations any longer, for now shall God be
worshipped in spirit and truth ; now you shall and must
throw away your little books you carry into the pulpits to
deceive the people with ; you now preach for wine and
gluttonous living, and not for precious souls — will you not
get your portion with the rich man in hell if you do not
repent and find mercy ? "Jonathan Masters,

" Vour sincere friend."

The Incendiary of York Minsier. \^i

Martin continued for some time attending church, and
disturbing the service by his groans and exclamations of
assent to, or dissent from, what was enunciated from the
pulpit. At Bishop Auckland one day he heard the
preacher declare that no man could be absolutely certain
that his sins were forgiven, and his happiness hereafter
was assured, till he had put off mortality, and his eyes
were opened in the light of eternity. This was too much
for Martin to bear. He says : —

" The bitterness of my soul constrained me to call out —
4 Thou hast no business in that pulpit, thou whitened
sepulchre, thou deceiver of the people, how canst thou
escape the damnation of hell?' I was determined to
address the people on the following Sunday, and tell them
the state they must be in under such a ministry, and of the
justness of that God who will judge the world in righteous-
ness. John Bunyan admonished his hearers to an upright
.and strict life, being assured if they were neglected they
were void of religion, and Popery would again spread
through England. Like poor John Bunyan, I was pulled
out of the place as soon as I began to speak. The clergy-
man employed an attorney to write against me, and I was
apprehended as a vagabond ; and they wanted my master
to swear that I was deranged. My master objected
thereto, stating that I had been with him seven months,
and had been a faithful servant. He inquired of my
master and several neighbours at Norton if they were not
afraid of me, but was answered in the negative."

Martin mentions here that his wife had become a
great enemy to him since he joined the Methodists ; that
she wanted him to leave them, and vowed to God that,
unless he deserted them, she would disown him as a hus-

152 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

band ; and " from that period to the day of her death,
eight years, she kept her word, but his firmness was not
shaken."

" About this time the Bishop (I think of Lincoln) was to
hold a confirmation at Stockton, for the Bishop of Durham.
I had heard that he was a good man, and that numbers
attended his visitation. I was glad to hear so good a
report of him, and concluded that if he were really so good
a man and so eminent a Christian, he would not fear
death, and resolved to try his faith by pretending to shoot
him. I had been in Newcastle to see my brother, and
recollecting he had an old pistol, I asked and obtained it,
and brought it home with me. On my arrival, my wife,
observing the pistol, inquired what I wanted with it. I
replied with a smile that I got it to shoot the Bishop. I
laid it down carelessly, determined, if she should remove
it, and I should receive no encouragement by a dream, I
would proceed no further in the matter. When I got up
in the morning the pistol was not to be found, and there,
as I thought, the matter dropped; but some officious
person hearing of it, told the clergyman of Norton, and he
laid a complaint before the magistrate against me. A vestry
meeting was then called, to which I was summoned. My
previous interference with the church was urged against
me, and so much was I tormented with questions on the
subject, before I went to the vestry, and while there, that
I was considerably agitated and off my guard. However,
the reverend gentleman was little better tempered than
myself, and showed a degree of rancour that I did not
expect. I was asked if I had a pistol to shoot the Bishop
with ; to which I replied, ' that I did not mean to injure
the man, although I considered they all deserved shooting,

The Incendiary of York Minster. 1 5 3,

being blind leaders of the blind ; consequently both must
fall into the ditch.' I was then suffered to depart, but was
next day taken into custody, and brought before the meet-
ing of justices at Stockton, and examined very harshly.
They asked me, if I had found the pistol, would I really
have shot the Bishop ? I replied, ' It depended upon cir-
cumstances— I would ask him some questions out of the
Creed, and if he did not answer me satisfactorily as to his
conversion, and the evidence of the Spirit, he must be
branded as a deceiver of the people.' For this I was
sentenced to be confined in a mad-house for life, but glory
be to God, they could not keep me an hour longer than
my Lord and Saviour thought fit. I felt as happy under
this trial, in the assurance of Jesus' love, as if I had been-
going to a palace."

He was at first confined in a lunatic asylum at West
Auckland, but was afterwards removed to a similar esta-
blishment at Gateshead. His afflictions then and sub-
sequently he relates thus : —

" I had not for a long time seen my wife and child, as
during the time I was so rigorously confined they had
been denied admittance. My poor wife had long been,
labouring under heavy affliction, having a cancer in her
breast. When I began to work they were allowed tc
come and see me, and my wife at parting said — ' Farewell
Jonathan, look to Jesus ; pray for me ; may God bless
you ; my strength is fast failing, and I feel that I shall
not be able to come any more.' She spoke prophetically,
for we met no more. A short time after, she took to her
bed, from which she never rose. My readers may jud
of my grief to think that my poor wife was a-dying, at no
great distance, and when she requested to see me, even irk

i 54 Yorkshire Oddities a?id Incidents.

custody and in chains, the keeper was so unfeeling as to
refuse her dying request. She afterwards sent my son
{little more than seven years old), hoping that his youth,
innocence, and distress might soften their hearts, but his
appeal was unheeded. She sent him again with her dying
love to me, and the keeper's wife shut the door in his
face, and the child was suffered to return weeping to his
mother. His supplication, as I afterwards heard, would
have melted any heart, crying, ' What will become of me?
My mother is dying, and my father is shut up in a mad-
house, where I am not so much as allowed to see him.' "

It must be remembered that Martin's account of things
is not to be trusted in all particulars. At the same time it
is certain that asylums were not conducted at that period
with humanity and judgment.

Mrs. Orton, the keeper's wife alluded to, was examined
at the trial of Martin, ten years later. She said : " When
Martin was with me I thought him a really insane person.
He would sit on the floor with two cross-sticks as if he was
fiddling, either singing hymns or whistling. He called his
sticks an imitation of David's harp. I have known him
fast four days — and say it was God Almighty's orders — in
imitation of Christ fasting forty days on the Mount. He
was often under restraint, and was bad to manage."

He succeeded in making his escape from the asylum* on
the 17th of June, 1820, but was caught at Norton and
brought back. On the 1st of July, 1820, he made his
•escape again by rubbing the rivets of his irons with free-

* Nicholson, the keeper of the Gateshead Asylum before the
Ortons, said at the trial : " Martin was under my care eleven or
twelve months. He conversed very rationally. I should not have
thought him fit for a lunatic asylum."

The Incendiary of York Minster. 155

stone, which he managed to secrete in his room. He
broke through the ceiling, got into a garret, and escaped
through the tiles upon the roof. He thence descended
cautiously and safely to the ground; and thus ended his
raptivity of three years.

With great difficulty — still with the rings of his chains
on his ankles — he reached the house of Mr. Kell, an
intimate friend, of the same way of thinking, at Cadlaw
Hill. Mr. Kell freed him from the remains of his fetters —
" the degrading emblem of slavery," as Jonathan termed
them. Mr. Kell was a distant relation of Martin on his
mother 's side ; and he remained there a fortnight, till his
strength was recruited, when he left him, designing to pro-
ceed to an uncle's, a distance of sixteen miles, to assist him
to get in his hay harvest. However, before he reached his
uncle's house, he was met by his cousin, who told him that
Orton, the keeper, with a constable, had been there in
search of him : he therefore escaped as fast as he could to
Glasgow, where another uncle resided ; and he reached it
in safety. From Glasgow he went to Edinburgh ; and was
in that city at the rejoicings on account of the coronation
of George IV. Martin stopped at Edinburgh only one day,
being anxious to see his wife ; and on returning to N orton
he found his wife still alive, but in the last stage.

After remaining three weeks with his friend Mr. Kell, he
determined to go to London to be near his brothers, one
of whom was the celebrated imaginative painter so well
known by his wonderful pictures, " The Eve of the
Deluge," "The Plains of Heaven," &c,

His friend having furnished him with money, he left
Darlington for London on the rst of Aug xtly

a month after he had made his escape. lie went, how-

156 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

ever, no further than Boroughbridge, where, on September
8th, he received a letter informing him of his wife's
death, and of his having had his house robbed of
money and goods to the amount of ^24. He gives a
pitiable account of the last illness and the distress of his
poor wife : —

"I learned afterwards that my dear wife had to go
through great tribulation. There was a woman allowed
one shilling and sixpence per week to wait on her, but she
always locked her in at night, without any attendant but
the poor child to wait on his wretched mother ; until my
sister, hearing of their condition, came and took him away
with her. So greatly neglected was he, that there was
none to cut the bread for him ; and when my sister came
to see them he had the loaf picked out, as if eaten by
mice, not being able to cut it himself. In this pitiable
condition my poor boy sat up several nights with his
mother to hold the drink to her when she became too
weak to do it for herself."

He then went to Hull, where he began to preach to his
mates in the tannery where he worked. " I was moved to
speak to them of their drunken lives, what would be the
consequence if they did not repent. One or two of them,
more wicked than the rest, got above me with a bucket of
bullock's blood, which they heaved over me ; but that did
not move me from my stand : then they tried water. Then
the devil put it into their minds to heave wet skins in my
face, and that did not make me quit my stand until the
hour was up."

Notwithstanding these checks, which in Jonathan's de-
scription strongly remind the reader of the sufferings of
Mawworm, he continued his exhortations in and out of the

The hicendiary of York Minster. 1 5 7

shop, and, if we are to believe his own account, two
hundred persons were converted by him.

From Hull he was driven by this treatment by his
carnally-minded shopmates, and went to Norton, where
his old master, Mr. Page, having obtained the consent of
the magistrates that Martin should not be again consigned
to the asylum, employed him as a tanner. But he soon
after (in 1822), removed to Darlington, where he also
worked at his trade, and spent his evenings in preaching
to and praying with those who would hear him. He boast;
that through his labours in seven weeks "two hundred
precious souls were set at liberty." He remained at Dar-
lington apparently till 1S27, and here he pretends to have
had some remarkable visions.

" I should inform my readers how I was taken to the
seaside in a vision, and beheld a countless army of men
arising from the waves. As I stood gazing thereon a man
advanced towards me, and said, ' Where shall we find bread
for so great a multitude ? ' He quickly answered, ' Where
they can.' They then advanced with great fury, and
covered, as it were, the whole earth, and I thought
England fled before them. This dream made great im-
pression on my mind after I came to Darlington, and I
determined to make known the things that will befall
England, unless we all turn to the Lord with full purpose
of heart, for I dreamed of a great battle between New-
castle and Sunderland ; and again, that the son of Buona-
parte came and conversed with me, and having a musket,
said he would shoot through the door of an Englishman.
He tiied three times, and the third was successful.

" I then left him, and was soon overtaken by some
baggage waggons ; all the French fired their muskets in

is 8 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

the air. I was taken prisoner, and they shut me up with
the Word of God and a Wesley hymn-book in my hand.
In the prison the sun shone upon me with all its splendour,
and I rejoiced to see the mercy of God towards me."

He then bursts out into the following denunciation
against clergymen : —

" Deceive not ycfurselves, oh, you clergymen, for my
dream has been doubled, for you will have to fly to the
mountains to hide yourselves from your enemies, for the
son of Buonaparte has a second time appeared to me.
The first time he stood before me, he stood with a
firelock in his hand, and said to me, I will shoot
through the door of an Englishman. The first time
he tried to present, but he was too weak, but willing
to avenge the death of his father, though but a child.
The second time he levelled the firelock, but could
not stand the force of powder. The third time he levelled
and fired, and hit his mark, and said, I will shoot through
the door of an Englishman. The second dream was like
unto the first : he broke through the door, and demolished
the house before me with great dexterity and art. The
youth appeared before me with a beautiful countenance,
with a light complexion, and light curled hair j and as he
passed before me through the door, I held out my hand,
and he shook hands with me. I have the honour of
shaking hands with the son of Buonaparte, though I have
not seen his father, and he vanished out of my sight. He
came from Denmark to reside in England. 0 England !
prepare for war, and to meet a hot reception ; for as you
surprised the Danes at Copenhagen, so will the son of
Buonaparte surprise you and reign in England, and come
off victoriously. The thing is certain, and will come to

The Incendiary of York Minster. 1 59

pass. You must not think the time long, for the youth
will soon be ready to act the part of his father, and do
valiantly ; for he shall be a scourge to the wicked clergy-
men of England."

At Darlington he was wont to declare that Prayer-books
had been the means of sending many souls to hell. He
then wore a coat and boots of seal-skin, with the hairy side
outwards. Afterwards he procured an ass, which he rode
upon, to be more like Christ ; and he used to preach to a
society of Oddfellows at the High Cross at Darlington.
His son Richard he put with a pedlar Jew, as his assistant ;
and when remonstrated with, said that his reason was that
little Dick might labour at the conversion of the Jews. He
was a good workman.

11 1 came to Lincoln on one Saturday in September,
1827, and on the following Sunday went to view the
Cathedral, as I was a stranger in the town. I heard the
voice of singing close by the Cathedral ; I drew near, and
as I stood listening, a young man, a Methodist, opened the
door and invited me in. Three violent young men (for
piety), Sunday-school teachers, pressed me hard to join
them to assist them in instructing the rising generation,
and pray that God would give a blessing to their labours.
I told them I would as well as God would teach me. We
had not been long together before the Lord put it in our
minds to hold a short prayer-meeting, that God would own
our feeble efforts, and bless the children. Whilst I was at
prayer it was impressed on my mind to pray that the Lord
would fill the large Cathedral full of converted clergymen,
and that he would distribute them amongst all the churches
of Great Britain, that blind guides and the devil might not
deceive the people any longer. I was fervent in prayer,

1 60 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

and that prayer disturbed the devil out of his den. A
public-house being next door, the landlady and her com-
pany came into the room whilst I was on my knees, the
landlady afraid of losing her company, and, as it were,
bell broke loose upon me. The devil fiercely attacked me,
but I stood to my arms ; the powers of the bottomless pit
could not make me rise from my knees until I had prayed
for my enemies ; then I arose and gave out a hymn to
conclude the meeting. When the landlady could not turn
us out, then she engaged her wicked company to attack
me. They surrounded me, and flew upon me like fiery
serpents from hell, gnashing their teeth, and crying out :
' Out with him, head first ! Break his neck over the
stones ! ' But I alighted on my feet, and the devil was
conquered."

At Lincoln, where Martin worked for a man named
Weatherall, he compiled and printed his biography ; two
editions were soon disposed of, and he printed a third
edition in 1828, of five thousand copies. A friend and
fellow-believer wrote his biography from his dictation, and
it underwent some sort of supervision, for Martin was wholly
ignorant of spelling, and had little idea of constructing a
grammatical sentence.

By hawking his little book about the country, and by
quartering occasionally in the houses of those who were
willing to extend their hospitality to him, on account of his
gifts of prayer and the word, he contrived to make a decent
living. He frequented the Methodist chapel at Lincoln,
and received his card of membership from the ministei
there. In 1828 he got acquainted with a young woman,
twenty years his junior, named Maria Hodson, who lived
at Boston. Martin visited her there, and they were married

The Incendiary of York Minster. 1 6 r

in Boston parish church. Shortly after the marriage they
came together to York, on the day after Christmas-day,
1828, and obtained lodgings in the house of a shoemaker
named William Lawn, No. 60, Aldwark.

During his stay in York he employed himself in vending
his books, and was well known in the city from wearing a
glazed, broad-brimmed, low-crowned hat, and a singular
black leather cape, which came down to his elbows, with
a square patch of fur sewn on the back, and extending
from one corner to the other. At York he attended the
Methodist meeting, but sometimes was with the Primitives,
or Ranters. When he had any vacant time, he spent it in
reading either the Bible or his hymn-book. On Sunday
afternoon he was wont to go to the Minster, and on the 6th
of January the following letter was found tied to one of the
iron gates of the Minster choir; it was fastened by a
shoemaker's waxed thread, but was not directed. A
verger, however, took it down and gave it to one of the
canons or minor canons, who, however, thought it too
absurd to deserve notice. The following is a verbatim
copy of it : —

"York, Janrey the 5 — 1S29.

11 Hear the word of Lord, Oh you Dark and Lost
Clergymen.

" Repent and cry For marcey for know is the day of
vangens and your Cumplet Destruction is at Hand for the
Lord will not sufer you and the Deveal and your blind
Hellish Docktren to dseve the works of His Hands no
longer

"Oh, you Desevears will not milleons of the mightty
and Rich men of the Earth have to Curs the Day that ever
they gat under your blind Docktren know to be a shamd

VOL. II. M

1 62 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

of your selvs and wepe for your Bottls of Wine and your
downey Beds will be taken away from you I warn you to-
repent in the name of Jesuse and believe he is able on
Earth to forgeve Sines, for there is no repenting in the
greave Oh you blind Gydes are you not like the man that
bilt his Hous upon the Sands when the Thunder starmes
of Gods Heavey vangens lites upon your Gildrys Heads a
way gos your sandey Foundaytons and you to the deepest
pet of Hell re Serve the Curses of millions that your
blind Doctrens has Decevd and to reseve Gods Heve Curs
and the Ward pronounst Depart you Carsit blind Gides in
to the Hotist plase of Hell to be tormented with the Deveal
and all his Eanguls for Ever and Ever

11 Jona. Martin, a frind of the Sun of Boneypart Must
Conclude By warning you again Oh, Repent repent He
will soon be able to act

" the part of his Father
" Derect for Jonathan Martin
" Aldwark No. 60 "

Another epistle was also found, on Wednesday, the 21st
of January, by a sailor from Hull, who being at York,
visited the Cathedral in company with his wife. When
walking along the western aisle he saw on the ground, near
a pillar, a small packet, which he had the curiosity to open.
It was tied with a shoemaker's waxed thread, covered with
old matting, and contained a stone, round which was
wrapped a pamphlet, entitled " The Life of Jonathan
Martin." He also found in the parcel a letter, sealed with
cobbler's wax, and addressed to the Clergy of York. He
read and exhibited both the letter and pamphlet at the
house where he was stopping, but they were thought of no-

The Incendiary of York Minster. 163

consequence. Fortunately, unimportant as they were con-
sidered, he did not destroy them. The letter was couched
in the same strain as that already given.

In other MSS. dropped in or near the Minster, and
bearing the signature of " M.," the following expressions
were found : —

"Your great churches and minsters will fall down on
your guilty heads;" but no sort of suspicion was enter-
tained that anyone was wicked or mad enough to cherish
the determination of destroying one of the finest existing
specimens of the munificence and piety of our ancestors ;
therefore no precautionary measures were taken.

On the 27th of January, Martin left York with his wife,
stating that they were going to Leeds to reside, and his
luggage was sent off accordingly to that place. They
arrived in Leeds on the 28th, and Martin remained there
till the Saturday following. They lodged at the house of
John Quin, No. 6, Brick Street. His conduct is described
as having been most orderly and decorous. He attended
worship at a chapel of the Primitive Methodists one
evening ; his conversation was cheerful and perfectly
rational ; he appeared to be kind and affectionate to his
wife, and spent the time while he was in the house chiefly
in singing hymns, reading the Scriptures, and conversing on
sacred subjects. The principal part of Thursday and
Friday he was engaged in vending his pamphlet. When
he left Quin's house on Saturday morning, between nine
and ten o'clock, he seemed perfectly tranquil, and said he
was going to fulfil an appointment that he had in the neigh-
bourhood of Tadcaster, and that he should return to his
wife at Leeds on Monday by dinner-time. Instead of
stopping at Tadcaster, he came back to York, and went to

1 64 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

his old lodgings in Aldwark. He told Mr. and Mrs.
Lawn that he and his wife had been no further than
Tadcaster, and that he was going to stop in that neighbour-
hood for the purpose of hawking books. He asked if he
could sleep there that night, and on being answered in the
affirmative, he took possession of the room he had before
occupied. In the afternoon he went out, and was observed
perambulating the Minster-yard, and taking special note
of the building. His attention appeared particularly
directed to the western towers. He returned to Mr
Lawn's in the evening, and remained till eleven o'clock
on Sunday morning, when he went out — and returned
no more.

This wretched incendiary had then, no doubt, laid all his
plans for the destruction of the Minster ; a project which,
to judge from his subsequent communications to Mr. Wilson,
a local preacher in the Wesleyan Methodist Connexion at
Hexham, he seems to have entertained for some time. The
motives which prompted him to attempt the destruction of
this beautiful church were the fanatical antipathy he enter-
tained towards the clergy of the Church, whom he con-
demned as " blind guides " — to whom, however, he said he
felt no ill-will, malice, or personal hostility, but he was
sorry for them, as he believed they were leading the higher
ranks in society astray ; and the destruction of the Minster,
he was of opinion, " was for the glory of God, the good of
the people of England generally, and for the good of the
inhabitants of York in particular, as when the Cathedral
was destroyed they would be compelled to disperse them-
selves to other places of worship, where they would hear
the Gospel preached." When he had fully made up his
mind on the subject, he began to apprehend opposition

The Incendiary of York Minster. 1 65

from his wife ; and he told Mr. Wilson that he adopted the
following extraordinary mode of neutralising it : — " He took
the ring from her finger while she slept, and though she
manifested much concern at the loss of her ring, he allowed
her to vent her feelings in unavailing regrets, until he
thought her sufficiently moulded to his purpose. He then
exacted a vow from her that she was to keep his secret, and
he would restore her ring. This being agreed to, he told
her his intention, on which she seemed greatly disturbed,
and they went to Leeds."

After Martin left his lodgings on Sunday morning he
went to the Minster and heard the sermon. In the after-
noon he repaired there again, and entered the south tran-
sept as soon as the doors were open. He walked about till
after the service began ; and the sexton (Job Knowles)
noticed him passing several times as he was ringing the
bell for prayers. Before he entered the Minster in the
afternoon he had provided himself with a " razor with a
white haft, the back of which he used instead of a steel ;
a flint, tinder, matches, and a penny candle cut in two."'
This, however, soon burnt out, and he replaced it with one
of the wax candles which had been used in the Minster the
previous evening. During service he concealed himself
behind a tomb — probably Archbishop Grinfield's, in the
north transept — muttering to himself as the organ played,
" Buzz, buzz — I'll teach thee to stop thy buzzing.'' There
he remained till all the people had left. He then quitted
his place of concealment and walked about, looking where
he could best make the fire. The ringers were in the
belfry in the evening, and from behind a column he watched
them go out. And here it may be remarked that very
important consequences often result from apparent acci-

1 66 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

dents. If the ringers had locked the door of the belfry
after them, in all probability he could not have made his
escape from the Minster, but would have been compelled
to remain till the doors were opened in the morning ; when,
mingling with the crowd, in the hurry and confusion, he
might not have been noticed, and the calamity would always
have been ascribed to accident.

After the ringers left, Martin went into the belfry and
struck a light. A gentleman who was passing the Minster
about half-past eight o'clock, saw a light in the belfry at
that time ; but as the ringers had been there, he thought
they were about ringing again, and took no notice of the
circumstance. Two persons who were confined in Peter
prison also saw a light in the belfry after nine o'clock. At
this time the incendiary was busy preparing his means of
escape. He cut about ninety feet off the rope attached to
the prayer-bell, which passed through a hole in the floor ot
the belfry into the aisle below, and having pulled it up, he
formed it into a ladder by doubling it and tying knots at
regular distances. After he had worked some time, he put
out his light, and finished his ladder in the dark. When
this was completed he left the belfry, and having climbed
over the iron gates which separate the nave from the north-
east aisle, he used the rope-ladder to get over the gate
leading from that aisle into the choir, which is usually kept
fast. He then struck a light the second time, and with the
razor cut three yards of gold fringe, two gold tassels, &c,
from the pulpit, and the crimson velvet curtains from the
dean's and precentor's seats at the bottom of the choir, and
those from the archbishop's throne. He also took a small
Bible, and as he expected to be taken and imprisoned,
he brought away the Bible that it might be a comfort

The Incendiary of York Mi?ister. 167

>to him in his confinement. He then piled the cushions
and Prayer-books in two heaps, on each side near the carved
work, and set them on fire by introducing matches among
•them.

Having done this, he set about making his escape. He
had brought with him a pair of shoemaker's pincers, which
Mr. Lawn had left in the room where he slept on Saturday
night, and having tied one end of his rope to the machine
used for cleaning the Minster, he dragged it under the win-
dow in the west aisle of the north transept, which he broke
with the pincers j and having seen that one of the piles
(that by the archbishop's throne) to which he had set fire
was burning briskly, he descended, and left the Cathedral a
little after three o'clock in the morning of the 2nd of
February, taking with him the articles before mentioned,
and also some purple silk — a part of one of the robes of
the clergy.

During the time he was in the Minster he says he felt no
fear, but was, " on the contrary, quite happy ; sometimes
he prayed, and sometimes he praised God, because, as he
said, He had strengthened him to do so good a work ! "

The incendiary had left the Minster several hours before
•the fire was discovered. The patrol left the Minster-yard
about half-past two o'clock, before he had made his escape,
and they saw no indications of anything unusual when they
left. About four o'clock a man going past saw a light in
•the Minster, but he thought the workmen were preparing a
vault, and unfortunately passed on without endeavouring to
ascertain what was really the cause of so unusual an occur-
rence as a light burning in the sacred edifice at that early
Jiour.

About five o'clock a series of reports, resembling repeated

1 68 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

explosions, were heard. The parties who heard then*
wondered what they meant, but never thought of tracing
them to their source. The discovery at last took place in
the following singular manner : — A lad named Swinbankr
one of the younger choristers, whose duty it was to go and
practise at the Minster early every morning, went as usual
a little before seven o'clock on the morning of the 2nd
of February. He found the doors were not open, and
began to slide on a piece of ice in the Minster-yard to amuse
himself. Whilst so doing he fell on his back, and before
he recovered himself from that position he saw smoke
issuing from the roof of the Minster. Alarmed at the sight,
he went to Job Knowles, the sexton, for the keys. On
his return he found the doors had been opened by some of
the workmen, and Mr. Scott, the builder, entered the
building at the south door, but had scarcely got in when he
was compelled to retreat — so dense was the smoke that
respiration was impossible. A gentleman with difficulty
then made his way to the organ screen ; but was compelled
to retreat to avoid suffocation. By the vestry door, how-
ever, access was obtained to the choir — the gates from the
vestry, and also those leading from the aisle into the choir,
being fortunately open. The fire, which originated at one
end of the stalls, had consumed the whole row, with all
their tabernacle work ; and about half-an-hour after it was
first discovered, the flames had spread to the stalls on the
other side. One of the Minster engines was kept in the
vestry, and this was immediately placed in the aisle, where
it played on the place where the communion-plate was kept,
and around which the flames were raging with great in-
tensity : the tabernacle screen was in this spot burnt to the
ground, and the plate was melted into one mass. As soon.

The Incendiary of York Minster. 1 69

as this engine was got to work, several individuals suc-
ceeded in carrying out the whole of the cushions and books
from the north side of the choir ; the cushions and part of
the hangings of the cathedral were also saved, as was the
curious old chair which stood within the rails. The next
effort was to remove the brass eagle or lectern. This was
effected with great difficulty, owing to its weight, by the
few persons who had the courage to brave the suffocating
effects of the smoke. They were driven back three times
before they succeeded in carrying off the upper part of the-
eagle, which was taken into the vestry ; the other portion
was afterwards carried out at a door on the chapter-house
side. All this was the work of a few minutes ; and at this
time (perhaps about a quarter after seven), the organ screen,
the north side of the choir, and the roof, were to all appear-
ance untouched by the fire. At this period, if a few fire-
men had been present who understood their business, this
part of the church might have been saved. Shortly after,
however, the flames spread round the south-west corner of
the choir and reached the organ ; and when this noble in-
strument caught fire, an appalling noise — occasioned by the
action of the air in the pipes upon the flames — resounded
through the building, and struck with awe all who heard it.
Whilst this was passing in the interior of the building,
the alarm had been spread through the city by the ringing
of the bells of S. Michael-le-Belfry, and the Yorkshire
Insurance Company's engine was soon on the spot. It
was placed at the south door, and the pipes were carried
into the Minster, and directed over the organ upon the
fire which was then raging in the choir. The city engines
arrived soon after, and were stationed at different parts of
the building. An express was sent to the barracks, and

t 70 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

the barrack engine arrived about eight o'clock. Major
Clark and several officers accompanied it with a file of the
7th Dragoon Guards, who were of great use in facilitating
-the operations of the persons employed in extinguishing
•the flames.

About ten minutes before eight o'clock another engine
was brought into the Minster ; but the roof having
■caught fire from the organ — the flames from the latter
igniting some of the bosses of the groining, which were of
■maple-wood — the melted lead and pieces of burning timber
began to fall so rapidly that the men were compelled to
abandon their positions, and the engine was stationed
further off, in the nave, whence it continued to play over
the screen upon the burning ruins in the choir for several
hours. Previous to the removal of this engine an attempt
was made by two or three gentlemen to cut down the
great gates leading from the choir into the north-east aisle,
-with a view to cut off the communication with the altar :
the molten lead and burning rafters, however, fell about
them so rapidly that they were obliged to desist.

By eight o'clock, or a little later, the organ — one scarce
equalled for tone and power by any instrument in the
world — was totally consumed, together with the valuable
collection of music which was deposited in the organ loft ;
and much of which, being in manuscript, could not be
replaced.

By the exertions of Mr. Plows, stone-mason, a number of
men were about this time got upon the roof of the side
aisles; by means of ropes, buckets and the pipe of an
engine were hoisted up, and from this elevation a torrent
of water was discharged upon the flames beneath. A
number of men were also employed in cutting away the

The Incendiary of York Minster. 1 7 r

roof towards the east window, who continued their exer-
tions as long as they were practicable. About a quarter
past eight o'clock the flames burst through the roof, near
the lantern tower, and the spectacle from the exterior was
awful and impressive in the extreme, whilst the effect of the
scene in the interior was magnificent beyond description.
Immediately in front of the screen which divides the nave
from the choir, the engine already alluded to was playing
directly upon the fire, but with little effect, owing to the
magnitude of the space over which the flames had spread
themselves. From the screen to the altar the vast area had
the appearance of an ignited furnace ; and the men who
were employed in working the engines, and in various
other ways endeavouring to stop the progress of the flames,
resembled beings of another world rather than inhabitants
of this material globe. Their voices, as they shouted to
their comrades for " water " or for more assistance, fell in
harsh and discordant tones on the ear ; they moved
enveloped in an atmosphere so dense that it was scarcely
possible to breathe in it, partially illumined by the flames
and partly by the rays of the sun, which now streamed in
through the painted windows, producing altogether an
effect indescribably beautiful and grand. A number of
bats and other birds, burnt out of their retreats, were now-
seen flitting about, unable to find an outlet, and many
perished in the flames.

About half- past eight o'clock an express was sent by
Archdeacon Markham to the Mayor of Leeds, informing
him that the Minster was on fire, and requesting that two of
the largest engines belonging to that town might be sent off
immediately. This was shortly followed by another express
from Mr. Newman, the actuary of the Yorkshire Fire Office,

172 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

requesting that two more engines might be immediately
forwarded to York. At this period serious fears were enter-
tained that the fire would extend over the whole of this
immense fabric ; the flames were rapidly gaining ground at
the east end, and the engines had not the least effect in
allaying their progress. The lantern tower, and the whole
of the roof of the nave, appeared to be saturated with
smoke, which also poured out of the windows of the western
towers. The knotted rope having been discovered by
which Martin made his escape, and not satisfactorily
accounted for, and its being rumoured that a bunch of
matches had also been found which had been lighted at
both ends, the opinion that the fire was not caused by the
gas, or by candles being left in the organ-loft or in the
clergymen's robing-room, which had at first been enter-
tained, began to give way to the idea that this was the work
of an incendiary ; and when the smoke was seen issuing
from the places we have mentioned, it was at once said that
a train had been laid, and that it was breaking out in dif-
ferent places. This, providentially, was not the case ; the
smoke penetrating the roof, &c, was merely occasioned by
the denseness of the volume of vapour collected in the
church before the doors were opened, and which at last
found vent in that manner; and the fire never extended
beyond the lantern tower.

At ten minutes past nine a portion of the burning roof
fell in with a tremendous crash. For an instant the whole
area was illuminated, and the next moment a volume of
smoke and ashes was sent forth which involved for a short
time everything in darkness and obscurity. From that
time till half-past ten portions of the roof kept falling in,
till from the lantern tower to the east window the blue

The Incendiary of York Minster.

/j

vault of heaven was the only canopy. The molten lead
from the roof during this period poured down in torrents.

Soon after ten o'clock an engine arrived from Escrick
Park, near York, the seat of Paul Beilby Thompson, Esq.,
M.P. That no time might be lost, that gentleman's beau-
tiful grey carriage horses were yoked to his engine, and it
was driven into the city with the utmost promptitude.
About half-past ten another engine arrived from Tadcaster,
and was immediately got to work. One of these engines
was brought to the east end, and played into the choir
through an aperture made in the lower department of the
window j another also played for a short time through the
farthest window at the north-east end.

As great alarm was felt lest the east end of the Minster
should fall, a part of the staff of the 2nd West York Militia
was placed to prevent the public from passing in that direc-
tion; the inmates of the opposite houses had previously
removed their families. Providentially, however, this alarm
turned out to be unfounded. This fine window — the largest,
we believe, in England, if not in the world — was only very
partially injured.

The floor of the choir was strewed with fierce-burning
timber^, and resembled a liquid lake of fire ; it was heated
completely through, and the vaults below glowed with a
radiance that occasioned a general cry from those who could
get near, of " The vaults are on fire." But the heat now
began sensibly to abate, owing partly to the quantity of
water poured upon the burning timbers which covered the
floor of the choir and the Lady's Chapel behind the altar
screen, and par.ly to the removal of the burning rubbish
from the bases of the pillars, which latter being of lime-
stone, were very much injured by the action of the fire.

1 74 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

The rafters of the roof, and other immense pieces of timber,
were converted literally into charcoal, and were removed
to the nave and into the Minster-yard.

About noon the fears of the fire spreading any further
were removed ; but the engines continued to play for hours
after upon the mass of fire and flame on the floor of the
church. Great efforts were also made to save the beautiful
screen which divides the nave from the choir, and this was
effected, for that ornament of the Minster was only very
slightly injured.

About two o'clock the engine of the Norwich Union
Company, with the requisite number of men, arrived from
Leeds. They had been barely two hours on the road, and
in less than three minutes after the engine stopped in the
Minster- yard it was at work. Two other engines arrived
from Leeds shortly after. A fourth arrived about four
o'clock.

When the fire was so far got under that no fears were
apprehended of its extending beyond the choir and chancel,
several parties were admitted into the nave to view the
spectacle. Some ladies were amongst them, one of whom'
was heard to exclaim, on viewing the awfully splendid yet
distressing scene, " What a subject for Martin ! " alluding
to the celebrated painter. Little did she then think that
Martin's brother had occasioned this terrible conflagration.

The crowds of people who flocked to the scene of this-
calamity continued to increase all the afternoon, and it was
found necessary to place constables at the Minster doors, to-
prevent the influx of persons desirous of seeing the state of
the edifice ; many arrived from a considerable distance, and
it was quite impossible that more intense feelings of anxiety
and distress could have been evinced than were displayed,

The Incendiary of York Minster. i j$

by the inhabitants of York, who from their infant days had
been accustomed to consider the Minster as their boast and
glory.

A great-aunt of mine, still alive, has often described to
me the overwhelming sensation it caused. Her father, a
man of remarkable self-restraint, wept like a child. The
feeling in many a home was as if some accident had be-
fallen and carried off a dearly-loved relation.

There was gloom that day on every countenance, and
in the early part of the day a sort of stupor appeared to
pervade all ranks ; people were overcome by the greatness
of the unexpected calamity, and seemed scarcely to know
whether to consider as real the events which were passing
around them, or whether they were under the influence of
a dream.

During the whole of the afternoon the workmen and
others were busily employed in removing the fallen rafters
and other rubbish from the choir. Most of these were
carried out into the Minster-yard, which was thickly strewed
from the south door to the vestry with the fragments of the
roof, blackened and reduced to charcoal. Within the nave
a detachment of the Dragoon Guards was drawn up to-
prevent intrusion there, and a guard of the staff of the
2nd West York was mounted for the same purpose, as
well as to secure the ornamental portions of that part of the
structure from damage. The floor of the nave was strewn
with fragments of the roof which had been brought from
the choir ; and against one of the pillars lay the remains of
the organ — a few fragments of the gilt pipes and a portion
of the iron work. A dense mass of smoke still rose from
the embers, on which several of the engines continued to
play during the night. The fire was not totally extinguished

176 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

-when the shades of evening drew on, for occasionally a
fitful flash of lambent flame was seen struggling with the
gloom, but was quickly extinguished by the water from the
engines directed to the spot.

During the evening the silence which reigned around,
only broken at intervals by the tread of the sentinels or
the occasional remarks of a passenger, formed a striking
contrast to the bustle and confusion which had prevailed
during the day. About ten o'clock men were observed with
lanterns visiting every part of the roof, to see that all was
safe ; and the night was passed without any further alarm.

A word as to the extent of injury which the sacred build-
ing sustained. The roof of the central aisle, which was of
exquisite workmanship, was entirely destroyed from the
lantern tower to the east window ; this roof occupied a
space of 131 feet in length by 45 in breadth, and was 99 in
height from the floor of the choir. In the interior, from
the organ screen to the altar screen, all the beautiful taber-
nacle work, the stalls, galleries, bishop's throne, pulpit, &c,
were entirely consumed. The altar screen was so much
injured that it was obliged to be taken down. Of the
monuments, several were damaged either from the effect of
the fire or the falling of the timbers of the roof.

It is impossible to conclude this part of the subject
without alluding to the remarkable circumstance that one
of the lessons appointed to be read on the Sunday after
this calamity at the evening service was the 64th chapter
of Isaiah, being the Church's prayer to God. It was sin-
gularly applicable to the fire which destroyed the Cathedral ;
one verse especially — " Our holy and our beautiful house,
where our fathers praised Thee, is burned with fire : and
all our pleasant things are laid waste." Few in the

The Incendiary of Yortt Minster. 177

congregations assembled in the numerous churches of
York on the Sunday evening heard it unmoved. Another
thing, thought to be a coincidence, but which is certainly
a very remote one, was that the cathedral was fired by Martin
on Candlemas Day, using one of the wax-candles employed
in the choir during evensong.

Various reports as to the origin of the fire circulated in
York. Some supposed it originated from the gas, others
attributed it to the candles left alight in the organ loft 'or
in the vestry of the clergy. But others suspected it was
the work of an incendiary, and they were confirmed in this
belief by finding the knotted rope which had been left by
Martin, and was discovered early in the morning.

On Monday evening a committee of inquiry was formed,
consisting of clergy and gentlemen. They met at the Resi-
dence ; and the vergers, workmen, and other individuals
connected with the Minster, underwent a rigorous examina-
tion. The investigation was continued on Tuesday and
Wednesday, and the strictest secrecy was observed in the
proceedings ; in the course of which it was ascertained that
the rope was cut from the one which is attached to the
prayer bell, and that not with a knife, but by being chafed
with a sharp stone. It was also ascertained that the window
was opened from the interior ; and a bunch of matches,
burnt at both ends, was found among the rubbish, and after-
wards a pair of shoemaker's pincers. The matches were
found under the rubbish of the burnt organ ; the pincers
on the stool of the window out of which the knotted rope
was suspended. The fact was also proved that severa
anonymous letters had been sent to the vergers ; and also
that the parcel, with the letter and pamphlet before alluded
to, had been found in the Minster by a person from Hull.

VOL. II. N

178 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

A gentleman was despatched to Hull to obtain possession
of these documents ; but in the meantime they had fallen
into the hands of Mr. Isaac Wilson, of that place, who-
•with great promptitude came to York and laid them before
the committee.

Mr. Pardoe, the active police officer of York, was em-
ployed to ascertain to whom the shoemaker's pincers
belonged, and they were owned by Mr. Lawn, at whose
house Martin had lodged. Other circumstances formed a
chain of evidence so complete and conclusive as to leave
no doubt that Jonathan Martin was the incendiary, and
hand-bills were issued on Thursday offering a reward for
his apprehension. Pardoe had been despatched to Leeds
in pursuit the previous day, with a warrant from Archdeacon
Markham, which on his arrival was instantly backed by the
mayor of the borough. For the rest of the day and during
the night Pardoe and the whole force of the police were
employed in endeavouring to find a clue to the retreat of
the incendiary. They were not successful ; but on Thurs-
day morning his wife was taken into custody while vending
the " History of his Life." When discovered by the officers,
she expressed her surprise at the charge against her hus-
band ; and after admitting that he left that town on Satur-
day morning, said that she understood, on his departure,,
he was going into the neighbourhood of Tadcaster ; that
she had not heard of him since ; and that she had expe-
rienced great uneasiness at his long absence. She added
that his place of concealment, or anything further connected
with the affair, was totally unknown to her. She was kept
in custody at Leeds, in her own house, in the charge of two
constables, who obtained possession of all Martin's books
and papers.

The Incendiary of York Minster. 1 79

On Thursday morning information was received which
caused an express to be sent off to the neighbourhood of
Pontefract, where an active and diligent search was com-
menced. A clue was obtained, which led to the belief
that the incendiary had passed through Pontefract on the
road to Wakefield. The Mayor of Pontefract ordered the
police of that town to afford every assistance to the gentle-
men in pursuit, and he was traced to Polston toll-gate.
From the information there obtained it was supposed he
had taken the direction to Heath; and the pursuit was im-
mediately followed up in that direction, and continued
through the most of Friday. It was reported in the
evening about seven o'clock that Martin had been captured
about five miles from Bedale, and would be brought into
York by the Carlisle Express coach. The coach was half-
an-hour beyond its time, and the streets were filled with
crowds of anxious spectators, who waited in the expecta-
tion that the incendiary would arrive by it. Many persons
went out of Micklegate Bar, and ran alongside of the
coach till it stopped in Coney Street. It was then found
that the report was an erroneous one, for Martin was not
there ; nor was it true that he had been captured.

On Saturday morning it was ascertained that the police
had been on a wrong scent, as Martin had proceeded to
the north instead of to the west ; and about half-past nine
o'clock that morning an express was received stating that
he had been arrested the previous evening near Hexham.
The following are the particulars of his flight and capture :
Martin left the Minster, as has been stated, a little after
three o'clock in the morning. He proceeded to Easing-
wold and got a pint of ale; from thence to Thirsk, at
which place he arrived at eleven o'clock ; from Thirsk he

1 80 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

went to Northallerton, where he arrived about three
o'clock in the afternoon in a state of apparent fatigue.
He remained till evening with a brother-in-law who resided
there, and expressed great anxiety to get on to Hexham to
see a friend. At nine that evening he left Northallerton in
a coal cart, in which he travelled all night till he arrived
at Joft-hill pit, near West Auckland, on the Watling Street
road. The next morning he proceeded to Alensford, on
the Denvent, where he slept on the Tuesday evening. He
left Alensford about eight o'clock on the Wednesday
morning, and stopped at the Riding Mill, where he had a
pint of ale ; from thence he proceeded to Corbridge, where
he arrived about twelve o'clock, and had half-a-pint of ale ;
and then went to Cadlaw Hill to his friend Mr. Kell,
where he arrived about two the same afternoon, being the
same place where he sought refuge when he escaped from
the asylum at Gateshead. Martin remained there till
eleven o'clock on Friday morning, and during his stay he
expressed a great anxiety to see newspapers.

The handbills giving a description of Martin's person,
and offering a reward for his apprehension, were circulated
in all parts of the North ; and one of them fell into the
hands of Mr. Stainthorpe, a sheriff's officer, of Newcastle,
who knew him. Mr. S., on Friday, the 6th, having to go
to Corbridge, heard that Martin had returned home, but did
not at that time know there was any charge against him.
Returning to Hexham, where he kept a public-house, Mr.
S. found the handbill lying on the table ; and he imme-
diately saddled his pony and set off to Mr. Kell's, where
he felt satisfied he would find him. The house, called
Cadlaw Hill, is situated between Stagshaw Bank and
Hexham, on the north side of the Tyne. It is a house

The Incendiary of York Minster. 1 8 1

situated by itself, and had Martin not been well known in
the neighbourhood, it might have afforded concealment for
some time. On alighting he inquired of a young woman
who was standing at the door if Jonathan Martin had got
home. The family, it would seem, were not aware of the
crime he had committed, as the bailiff was readily an-
swered in the affirmative. On receiving this information
he bolted in, and found Mr. Kell and Martin sitting
together, the latter engaged in reading a hymn-book.
They both rose on his entrance, and he, accosting Martin,
asked, " Is not your name Jonathan Martin ? " He im-
mediately replied, "Yes, it is." On which Mr. Stainthorpe
said, "You are my prisoner." Martin displayed very little
emotion, nor did he even ask why he was made a prisoner.
Mr. Kell was greatly surprised, and asked Mr. Stainthorpe
what Martin was charged with. He replied he was
not at liberty to tell him ; but that he should require his
assistance to convey the prisoner to Hexham, on reaching
which place he would give him every information necessary.
Mr. Kell readily agreed, and the prisoner as readily seemed
disposed to take the road. The first question he asked
Mr. Stainthorpe was, " Do you belong to York ? " Mr.
Stainthorpe replied in the negative, and cautioned him not
to say anything that might criminate himself. On their
coming in sight of Hexham, from which Cadlaw Hill is
distant nearly four miles, Martin, pointing to Highside
House, two miles from Hexham, said, " Yonder is the
house in which I was born " ; and seeing the church of
Hexham, he exclaimed, " That is a fine old church. Did
the Catholics build that too ? " On the way Martin asked
if any York papers came to Hexham. And also he said
to Mr. Stainthorpe, " Am I advertised in the Newcastle

1 82 Yorkshire Oddities and I ncide7its.

papers ? " On being told he was, and also that he was
charged with burning York Cathedral, he readily said he
had done it ; and he added, " As soon as I knew I was
advertised, I intended to tell everything." On reaching the
House of Correction, Martin's bundle was opened, when
it was found to contain part of the valuable crimson fringe,
&c, which he said he had cut away from the pulpit, or
some part of the Minster, a small Bible which he had
brought away at the same time, and a piece or two of the
painted glass of the Minster. An old razor was found in
his pocket, with which he said he cut the crimson fringe,
&c, and wich which also he struck the fatal light by which
he was able to fire the Minster. There were found also
seven copies of his Life, but only one penny of money. He
appeared up to the moment of his apprehension to have
been profoundly ignorant of the extent of the injury he
had occasioned ; but on a gentleman telling him he had
totally destroyed the Cathedral, his countenance bright-
ened, and the news seemed to exhilarate him. He ex-
claimed, seemingly pleased, " Have I ? " After he was
lodged in the House of Correction an express was sent off
to York with the intelligence.

It was whilst he was in the House of Correction at
Hexham that Mr. Wilson (of whom mention has been
made) visited him, in company with Mr. Stainthorpe. Mr.
Wilson asked him whether his desire to see the newspapers
at Cadlaw Hill arose from an anxiety for self-preservation.
He replied, "None whatever"; but as he was ignorant what
effects had been produced by the fires he had kindled, he
was anxious to know; on which Mr. Stainthorpe said
the damage was estimated at ;£ 100,000. He coolly said,
" If it were not for the glory of God, if that could be pro-

The Incendiary of York Minster. 183

moted, ^200,000 would not have been too much, and
that in his opinion it would have been well if all the
Minster had gone together, as the worship carried on
in it was idolatrous and superstitious." He declared
that he was quite happy and fully resigned to his situa-
tion, and " would give himself up into the hands of the
Lord."

Such had been the demonstration of popular feeling
shown by the persons collected at different times to wait
the coaches coming in when Martin was expected, that the
magistrates very prudently arranged that he should arrive
in York early on Monday morning, and that the examina-
tion should take place immediately on his arrival. It was
as near as possible half-past three o'clock when Mr.
Newstead and Pardoe arrived with their prisoner in a
post-chaise at the Session House in the Minster-yard. He
was taken into the room occupied by Harrison, the keeper
of Peter prison, where he seated himself on a chair with
his hands clasped, his feet elevated on the fender, and his
eyes closed. Mr. Pardoe asked him if his feet were cold ;
to which he replied " Yes " ; and this was the only word
he spoke till the examination commenced. He was dressed
in a blue coat and trousers, with a drab greatcoat. He
had by no means the appearance of a " stout man," as
described in the bill ; but the person where he lodged said
he had fallen away very much in that short period.

It was half-past four o'clock when everything was
arranged for examination. The magistrates took their
seats on the bench, and Martin was placed at the bar ;
the warrant under which he was apprehended was read
over to him, and the depositions of witnesses were also
read.

184 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

It is unnecessary here to give the evidence either on this
occasion or at the subsequent trial. On being asked what
he had to say for himself, he made the following confession
in a firm tone of voice : —

" The reason that I set fire to the Cathedral was on
account of two particular dreams. In the first dream I
dreamed that a man stood by me with a bow and a sheath
of arrows. He shot an arrow, and the arrow stuck in the
Minster door. I then wished to shoot, and the man pre-
sented me the bow, and I took an arrow from the sheath
and shot, and it struck on a stone and I lost it. In the
second dream I dreamed that a cloud came down on the
Cathedral, and came over to the house where I slept, and
it made the whole house tremble. Then I woke ; and I
thought it was the hand of God pointing out that I was to
set fire to the Cathedral. And those things which were
found on me I took lest any one should be blamed
wrongfully. I took them to bear witness against myself;
I cut the hangings from the throne, or cathedra, or what-
ever you call it, and tore down the curtains."

Here he stopped rather abruptly, and being asked
whether he had anything more to say, he replied,
" No."

During the whole of the proceedings Martin appeared
perfectly calm, and stood with his eyes closed nearly the
whole of the time, his head inclining over the right
shoulder.

His committal was then made out, and signed by Mr.
Dickens, the chairman, and the Rev. D. R. Currer, and he
was removed to the City Gaol, and given into the custody
of Mr. Kilby, to remain till the Assizes.

After Martin was committed to the charge of the gaoler,.

The Ificendiary of York Minster. 185

on the morning of the 9th of February, he breakfasted
and went to bed. His sleep was sound and tranquil, and
he awoke much refreshed and in good spirits.

Strangers were not admitted to see him. Next day he
appeared greatly depressed, and was very anxious to avoid
public observation. He attended [prayers in the chapel
during the morning. The next day, however, he refused to
attend the chapel. Subsequently he was visited by the
Rev. G. Coopland, the chaplain, in his day -room, who
found that so deeply rooted was his aversion to the Liturgy
of the Church of England as to leave him no reason to
doubt that a forced attendance during the chapel service
would be much more likely to prove injurious than bene-
ficial to his own mind. Besides, he thought it not at all
improbable that were he compelled to attend, he might
consider it his duty to interrupt the service, and publicly to
protest against a mode of worship which he deemed un-
scriptural. Under these circumstances his attendance at
chapel was not enforced. He frequently prayed and sang
hymns, and when the order was relaxed by which strangers
were prohibited from seeing him, he entered very freely
into conversation with them. He still pretended to be
favoured with extraordinary visions. On one occasion he
said he dreamed that two angels appeared to him in prison,
one of whom told him to apply his lips to the tip of his
wings, which he did, when he was immediately conveyed
beyond the walls of his prison.

His brother arrived in York about ten days before the
Assizes commenced, to make preparations for his defence.
The defence intended to be set up was insanity ; and a
number of witnesses were collected with a view to support
this plea. Dr. Wake, at the request of his brother, visited

1 86 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

liim on Friday, the 20th. Up to this period his conduct
had been extremely mild, and his feelings composed ; but
a little change had been observed for a day or two
previous, and that night, about twelve o'clock, he
attempted to make his escape. He slept in what was
•called the Hospital Room — a room in which there were
two beds, a person who was appointed as his guard
sleeping in one of them, and Martin in the other. The
guard fell asleep about half-past eleven o'clock, and was
•soon after awoke by a knocking, apparently outside the
room. Not apprehending anything, he went to sleep
again; and Martin, having torn his bed-rug into lengths,
tied them together, and formed a rope about nine yards
long. He fastened this round his ankles, and having on
only his shirt and his drawers, he ascended the chimney.
An iron grate which was fixed in near the top prevented
him, however, from getting to the outside of the prison,
and he was obliged to descend again. He then placed
his sooty shirt under the bed, swept the soot into the same
place, and put on his flannel dress, and retired to bed.
The attendant, on awaking about two o'clock, found him
up, but he soon lay down again; and both rose at half-
past six o'clock. Almost as soon as the door was opened
Martin bolted out, and went into the yard. His attendant,
alarmed, followed him, and found him washing himself.
The state of the room and of his person, together with
two bricks being laid in the fire-place, proved the fact
that an escape had been attempted. Indeed, when
■charged with it he did not deny it. He said, if he had
been a smaller person he should have effected his escape ;
but that it was the " will of God " he should make the
attempt, and be frustrated.

The Incendiary of York Minster. 187

Of course, after this a closer watch was kept upon the
actions of the prisoner.

On Monday, March 23rd, he was brought before Mr.
Justice Bayley at the Guildhall, and true bills were found
against him for arson and sacrilege. He is described
during the examination at the Guildhall as having been
perfectly placid, and as having smiled occasionally.

When the Court adjourned for rest and refreshment to
the Mansion House during the proceedings, he engaged
in conversation with the parties near him, and laughed
at their observations. A lady said to him — " In destroying
that beautiful pile of buildings you inflicted no real punish-
ment on its clergy."

Martin laughed, and answered—" Eh, but it may mak'
them stand and consider their ways. All those who are
really converted will think I've done reight enuff."

The trumpets soon after sounded, heralding the
approach of the judge. The prisoner said — " Hark, how
the watchman cries. Oh! attend to the sound." The
crowd was so dense in the hall that it was with difficulty
a passage could be made for his lordship. Martin
laughed, and observed to Mr. Kilby, " They'll have t' ould
man down." A gentleman asked him if he was not
afraid ? He said, (i No, not at all."

The populace entirely filled the hall and part of the
yard ; and Jonathan turned his face towards them,
frequently laughing, and talking to those with whom he
came immediately in contact. He said he " believed he
was the most righteous man in court " ; adding, " I have
made as much noise as Buonaparte ever did. I think this
is a very throng day." He then turned round to the
counsel and reporters, and said, " I keep them very busy ;

1 88 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

I have given them all a job. I'll put their hands in by-
and-bye." When the judge returned he said, " Here's
t' ould man coming again." He seemed quite pleased at
being the object of such universal interest, and repeatedly
laughed at the attempts of the people to get a sight
of him.

The trial of Jonathan Martin took place in the Crown
Court of York Castle before Mr. Baron Hullock, on
Monday, March 30. The Court was crowded. When
placed at the bar, and the first charge, that of having
feloniously set fire to the cathedral church of S. Peter's,
York, had been read to Martin by the clerk of arraigns,
and he had been asked the usual question whether he were
"guilty or not guilty," he placed himself in a theatrical
attitude, and said, " It was not me, my lord, but my God
did it. It is quite common to him to punish to the third
and fourth generation, and to show mercy to all that fear
Him and keep His commandments."

A plea of " Not guilty" was entered.

The second indictment was then read over to him,
charging him with feloniously stealing a quantity of crimson
velvet and gold fringe and two gold tassels, the property
of the Dean and Chapter of the Cathedral and Metropo-
litical Church of York. He was asked whether he was
guilty or not guilty. Throwing out his left hand, he
replied —

" My God gave me that for my hire. The Lord gave
the silk to mak' a robe, like David the King, and the velvet
to mak' a cap, and the tassels I took from the pulpit to
hang down over my right and left ear."

The Clerk of Indictments. — " Are you guilty or not
guilty ? "

The Incendiary of York Mi?ister. 189

Martin. — " I had it given me for my hire."

This was taken as a plea of " Not guilty " j and Mr.
Baron Hullock addressing him, said, M Vou will be tried
to-morrow morning at nine o'clock." He bowed, and said,
" Very well, my lord " ; and was removed from the bar.

The crier of the Court then announced, at the desire of
the judge, that the trial of Jonathan Martin would not
take place till Tuesday morning at nine o'clock.

On Tuesday, March 31st, the Court was as crowded as
on the preceding day, and great confusion was the result ;
this seemed to cause Martin much amusement, and he
laughed repeatedly at the struggles of the crowd at the
door, and leaped on a seat to observe it.

After the hearing of the evidence, the substance of
which has been incorporated in the narrative, Jonathan
Martin was called upon for his defence. Martin, who had
become very listless during the examination, seemed at
this moment full of animation, and in a very vehement
manner uttered in broad Northern dialect the following
words in his defence : —

" The first impression that I had was by two particular
dreams, sir ; and after I had written five letters to warn the
clergy. I think the last I wrote was a very severe one. I
believe I wrote in it all the curses of the Scripture to warn
them, and likewise signed my name to every letter, and the
place I lodged at, No. 60, Aldgate. I never received any
letters, which I was anxious to have from these clergymen,
to speak to them by mouth, but there was found none
among them that dared to answer me. I prayed to the
Lord what I was to do. The next night I dreamt that a
wonderful thick cloud came from heaven and rested upon
the Minster." [Here the prisoner gave a long account of

1 90 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

his dream, mentioned above, and about the cloud resting
over the house.] He continued : — " The house was so
shook that it awoke me from sleep. I was astonished, and
began to ask the Lord what it meant. I felt a voice
inwardly speak that the Lord had chosen me to destroy the
Cathedral for the wrong that was doing by the clergy in
going to plays, and balls, and card-tables, and dinners.
Different things impressed my mind that the Lord had
chosen me, because the house shook and trembled. I
thought it resembled the pillar of smoke, and fulfilled the
prophecy of Joel, that God would pour out his Spirit upon
all flesh, and the old men should see visions, and the
young men dream dreams, and that there should be signs
in the heavens, blood and fire, and vapour and smoke. I
thought that I should be fulfilling the word of God, and it
was so impressed on my mind I had no rest night or day ;
for I found the Lord had determined to have me to show
this people a warning to flee from the wrath to come. I
was rather at a loss, and astonished about my wife lest she
should attack me, for I could not do it without being all
night from her. After I had considered a while and got
everything in order, I began to think it was impossible for
me to do it, as if I was away without my wife knowing
where, she might conceive I was about the Cathedral, and
come and put me out. Therefore I thought of this, to
take my wife's ring off her finger, and tie her over to this
concern, which I did, as I have mentioned before, and the
circumstance of my wife's keeping the vow. After I told
her the circumstance she was much grieved, and strove to
get me away to Leeds, to get me from the purpose I had
informed her of. We went to Leeds and stayed a few days
there, but I could get no rest to my mind till I had accom-

The Incendiary of York Minster, 1 9 1

plished the deed. I was obliged to take leave of her on.
the Saturday morning. I had a severe contest between
flesh and blood. It was a sair contest, especially when
she asked what was to become of her, and of my child
Richard I had at school at Lincoln. I thought she would
have nailed me to the spot ; but after a moment a passage
of Scripture struck my ears, and it cried out like a whisper,
'What thou doest, do quickly.' I heard another — ' He
that loveth father or mother more than me is not worthy of
me.' And I heard a third whisper — ' Even thine own life/
I tore myself from her arms. I said — ' Lord, not my will,
but thine be done.' I then felt the love of God in my
heart. I thought I would go toTadcaster, and took twenty
books with me. When I got them the Spirit told me to
go forward. I had no money to keep me over the Sunday.
I had only fourpence - halfpenny." The prisoner then
gave a minute detail of his proceedings, and the different
expedients resorted to in order to set fire to the building,
which he described as having been a work of great labour
and difficulty. He said, at the evening service he was
" very much vexed at hearing them sing the prayers and
amens ; he thought the prayer of the heart came from the
heart, and that they had no call for prayer-books." He
observed — " The organ then made such a buzzing noise, I
thought, ' Thou shalt buz no more — I'll have thee down
to-night.' " " Well," he continued, " they were all going
out, and I lay me down aside of the bishop, round by the
pillar." [The prisoner concealed himself behind a tomb.].
" I lay here till all went out. I thought I heard the people
coming down from ringing the bells ; they all went out,
and then it was so dark that I could not see my hand.
Well, I left the bishop, and came out and fell upon my

192 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

knees, and asked the Lord what I was to do first, and he
said — ' Get thy way up into the belfry and cut a rope ' ;
and I had never been there, and I went round and round ;
I had a sort of a guess of the place from hearing the men,
as I thought, come down. Then the Spirit said, ' Strike
a light.' And I then struck a light with a flint and razor
that I had got, and some tinder that I had brought from
my landlord's. I saw there were plenty of ropes : then
I cut one, and then another ; but I had no idea they were
so long, and I kept draw, draw, and the rope came up
till I dare say I had near ioo feet. I have been a sailor,
and thought to myself, this will make a man-rope, a sort of
scaling-rope, and I tied knots in it. Aye, this is it, I
know it well enough (pointing to the rope which lay upon
the table). So I went down to the body of the Cathedral,
and bethought me how I should go inside. I thought if I
did so, by throwing the rope over the organ, I might set it
ganging, and that would spoil the job. So I made an end
of the rope fast, and went hand-over-hand over the gates,
and got down on the other side, and fell on my knees, and
prayed to the Lord, and He told me that do what I would
they would take me. Then I asked the Lord what I
was to do with the velvet, and He told me " (the prisoner
here repeated what he had before stated in his plea about
the robe, cap, and tassels). "The fringe, I thought, would
do for my hairy jacket that I have at Lincoln. I have
a very good sealskin one there ; I wish I had it with me,
that I might show it you. Then I got all ready. Glory to
God ! I never felt so happy ; but I had a hard night's
work of it, particularly with a hungry belly. Well, I get a
bit of wax-candle, and I set fire to one heap, and with the
matches I set fire to the other. I then tied up the things

The Ince?idiary of Yorlc Minster. 195

that the Lord had given me for my hire in this very-
handkerchief that I have in my hand." He then
•observed that he had " hard work " while engaged in
making his preparations ; but, said he, " I had a glorious
time of it ; and many a time I called ' Glory be to
God ' in a way which I wonder they did not hear on
the outside." He left the pincers, he said, because the
old man with whom he lodged could not afford to lose
them, and he knew he would get them again. He thought
it a work of merit to burn prayer-books and music -books,
but not to burn the Word of God, and he appeared to
regret that he could not save the large Bible by getting it
over the gates and putting it outside. He detailed the
particulars of his journey to the North ; and described him-
self as having, from his arrival at York till he reached
Northallerton, had very little food, but " t' Lord refreshed
my soul on t' road wi' t' snow upon t' ground." He then
went on with his story till he reached Mr. Kell's house,
and " t' Hexham man came, tapped me on t' shoulder, and
took me to t' lock-up." He concluded, after speaking
twenty minutes — " I am almost tired of talking, but I will
efterwards tell ye a bit more."

A minute or two after, he said to the reporters — ** An'
you have been writing down what I said — I think I talked
o'er fast for thee ! " He then espied one of his publica-
tions, and said — " I see the'se gotten one of my bukes. I
wrote mysen at different times, and have sold 10,000
copies."

The defence set up for the prisoner by Mr. Brougham,
acting for Jonathan Martin's brother, was that Jonathan
had perpetrated the deed when in an unsound state of
mind. The jury returned the verdict — " We are of opinion

VOL II. O

1 94 Yorkshire Oddities and Incide7its.

that he set fire to the Cathedral, being at the time insane,,
or of unsound mind."

Baron Hulloch : — "Then your verdict must be not guilty
on the ground of insanity ; and the prisoner must remain
in close custody during his Majesty's pleasure."

Martin was highly irritated at the line of defence
adopted by Mr. Brougham; but that some suspicion of
his lunacy was entertained by himself at an early period
appears from his own words in his autobiography, written
before he set fire to York Minster : — " The devil suggested
to me that the people would think me mad." " My wife
endeavoured to comfort me, as she feared for my head."

After the sentence he was handcuffed and conveyed into
the Castle. He made no observation, but was evidently-
disappointed and dejected at the result. For some days
after this Martin seemed rather despondent, but he soon
resumed his activity, pacing up and down at the rate of
five miles an hour, and at an average of twenty miles per
day. He asked some one he knew, who visited him, after
his son, who was at school at Lincoln, and said — " I'm
thinking that God ha' used me varry badly."

He was removed from York Castle to S. Luke's Hos-
pital in London, where his conduct is described as having
been generally rational. He seldom spoke on the subject
of his crime. Towards his brother he entertained the
bitterest enmity for having had him proved insane. But
he consoled himself in his confinement with the thought,
"The Lord will take his own time to deliver me, and that
will not be long, for He has a great work which cannot be
done without me."

When he heard of the death of Baron Hulloch, before
whom he was tried, and which took place the same year,.

The Incendiary of York Minster. 195

he seemed much agitated, walked about a while, as if
talking to himself, but made no observation. It transpired
afterwards that he looked on this as a signal instance of
the Lord punishing one of his enemies.

196 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

ROBERT ASKE.*

[HE suppression of the smaller monasteries, and
confiscation of their lands for the enrichment
of Henry VIII.'s rapacious followers, and their
precious chalices and jewels to satisfy the
King's extravagance, caused great discontent in England,
especially in the North. But one bishop had favoured
it — Cranmer, who always sided with the King. Latimer
wished the monasteries to become nurseries for the
clergy. The only other Reforming prelates, Shaxton
and Barlow, probably desired the wealth to flow into
their own pockets. Shaxton was inhibiting and persecuting
in favour of Protestantism those who were as yet tolerated
by the law; and in Mary's reign turned his coat, and
persecuted in favour of Catholicism. Barlow was anything
most conducive to his own advancement and pecuniary
interests. He was first Catholic, then Lutheran, then, in
1531, Catholic again. In Edward VI.'s reign, when
Zwinglianism was in favour, he became Zwinglian ; in
Mary's reign he offered to conform again to Catholicism,
but finding he could not retain his bishopric, he went

* For the compilation of this memoir I have used chiefly Froude's
" History of England from the Fall of Wolsey to the Defeat of the
Armada."

Robert A ske. 197

beyond the sea, where he remained till the accession of
Elizabeth.

The measure of the suppression had been carried
through Parliament with almost insulting defiance of
the opinion and wishes of the Upper House, forced
through by the imperious will of the King. The dis-
content consequent on this disrespect was general among
the nobility; from them it spread to the country families,
who saw in the spoliation of the monasteries the desecra-
tion of the familiar scenes of daily life, the violation of
the tombs of their ancestors, and the expulsion of abbots
who had been their friends, and were often their relations.*

Simultaneously, Legh and Layton, the two most active
and overbearing of the monastic visitors, were sent into
Yorkshire (a.d. 1536) to carry out the Act of Suppression.
The dissolution of the religious houses commenced in the
midst of an ominous and sullen silence. The Act extended
only to those houses whose incomes were under two
hundred pounds a-year, and among these the com-
missioners were to use their discretion. They were,
however, to visit every abbey and priory, to examine the
books, examine the monks, to collect every idle word of
gossip and slander that was circulating against a house,
and might serve as an excuse for its suppression and the
confiscation of its goods.

Legh and Layton carried out their work with ostenta-
tious insolence. They were followed by a train of servants
decked out in the spoils of desecrated chapels, with copes
for doublets, tunicles for saddle-cloths, and silver reli-
quaries hammered into dagger-sheaths. They had been

* The abbots had been " the trustees of their children and the
executors of their wills" (Examination of Aske, in Froude).

1 98 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

ordered to suppress superfluous holy-days; in their zeal
against Catholicism they had even desecrated the Lord's-
day, and commanded the holding of common markets on
Sundays.

The driving forth of monks, many old and infirm, and
of timid nuns, into the wide world, of which they knew
nothing, shocked the sensibilities of the lower orders, who
could sympathise with distress, and who, opening their
hovels to receive the outcasts, gathered from their recital
of indignities exasperation against the Government which
did these wrongs.

In addition to the suppression of monasteries, parish
churches were pulled down, and only one left for every
seven or eight miles; the church plate of silver was con-
fiscated, and " chalices of tin " given in their place.*

Every element necessary for a great revolt was thus in
motion — wounded religious feeling, real suffering caused
by real injustice, and the expectation of additional out-
rages. The clergy in the North were disaffected to a man,t
and the people had no desire to see the religion of their
fathers disturbed.

At Michaelmas, 1536, the people rose in Lincolnshire,
to the number of sixty thousand.'

Towards the end of September young Sir Ralph Ellerker,

* For instance, in Topcliffe there stood before the Reformation two
churches or chapels, one at Dalton, the other at Elmire, two hamlets
within three miles of the parish church. Till the last few years the
people of the village of Dalton and the inhabitants of Elmire were
without a church, and but for the Dissenting chapels would have been
without religion.

t George Lumley, eldest son of Lord Lumley, in his evidence
declared that there was not a priest in the whole north of England
who did not sympathise with the rebellion, and assist it with money.

Robert A sice. 199

of Ellerker Hall, at the foot of the Wolds where they
trended to the south-east along the Humber, to die away
in dreary flats, had been entertaining a party of friends for
cub-hunting. Among his guests were his three cousins,
John, Robert, and Christopher Aske. John, the eldest,
was the owner of the old family property of Aughton-on-
Derwent, a quiet, unobtrusive gentleman, with two sons
students at the Temple ; Robert, a barrister, was in good
practice at Westminster ; and Christopher was possessor
•of an estate in Marshland, in the West Riding. The Askes
were highly connected, being cousins of the Earl of
Cumberland, whose eldest son, Lord Clifford, had recently
married a daughter of the Duke of Suffolk, and niece of
the King.

The hunting party broke up on the 3rd of October, and
Robert left Ellerker on his return to London. But on
reaching the Humber he was told at the ferry that the
people wrere up in Lincolnshire. He wished to return, but
the tide was out, and would not allow him. He therefore
resolved to make his way by by-roads to Rawcliffe, near
Goole, where his brother-in-law had a house. But he was
met near Appleby, on his road to the ford of the Trent, by
a party of the rebels. He was asked his name, and was
offered the popular oath. Robert Aske was, there can be
little doubt, well prepared to throw himself into the cause.
His heart and soul were writhing at the changes being made
in religion — at the brutalities with which the Reformers
carried out their work. He took the oath, and at once
cordially threw in his lot with the malcontents. He was
well known in the neighbourhood, and was at once elected
-to the command of the district from the Humber to
Kirton ; and he spent some days in endeavouring to bring

200 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

into shape and discipline the disorderly crowd of rustics
who were in arms. But he was doubtful of the prospects
of the rebellion in Lincolnshire. He saw that there was no-
common policy, no commanding mind directing the insur-
rection. The people in the West Riding were also beginning
to stir. He crossed into Marshland, and passing the Ouse
into Howdenshire, went from village to village ordering that
no alarm bell should be rung, no beacon fired, except on,
the receipt of a special message from himself.

Then he hastened back into Lincolnshire, but by this
time the rebellion was breaking up. The Duke of Suffolk,
at the head of the royal army, rapidly occupied Lincoln.
Aske had reached that city only a day before the entry of
the Duke. The cause was hopeless in Lincolnshire, and
he went back full speed to Yorkshire.

As he rode down at midnight to the banks of the
Humber (October 13) the clash of the bells from every
church tower along the river came pealing to him across
the water. The beacons were flaming in Swanland, S.
Austin's Stone, and were flung from tower to tower.

"The fishermen on the German Ocean watched them
flickering in the darkness from Spurn Head to Scar-
borough, from Scarborough to Berwick-upon-Tweed. They
streamed westward, over the long marshes, across Spalding
Moor, up the Ouse and the Wharfe, to the watershed
where the rivers flow into the Irish Sea. The mountains-
of Westmoreland sent on the message to Kendal, to Cocker-
mouth, to Penrith, to Carlisle ; and for days and nights-
there was one loud storm of bells and blaze of beacons
from the Trent to the Cheviot Hills." •

All Yorkshire was in movement. Everywhere the

* Froude, ii., c 13.

Robert A sice. 201

people, without a dissentient voice, were loud in their
outcries against the compulsory alteration in religion.
Whatever the case may have been elsewhere — and it
was popular in Middlesex, Essex, Surrey, and Berkshire ;
partly so in Kent — it was detested universally in Yorkshire,
Northumberland, Durham, Lancashire, Westmoreland, and
Cumberland. Imagine a Government nowadays forcibly
destroying Wesleyan chapels, expelling the ministers, insult-
ingly desecrating Bibles and Wesley's hymn-books, and
what would be the state of feeling among the Noncon-
formists of the North ? Yorkshire was Catholic to a man,
and all it cherished and revered was being outraged with
conspicuous insolence. Should it not rise? Everywhere
Robert Aske found himself acknowledged as the head of
the insurrection. In his absence an address had gone
round the towns, had been nailed on the church doors and
posted on the market crosses, which bore his signature,
though written, as he protested, without his consent. Ill-
composed, and therefore scarcely the writing of an accom-
plished barrister, yet with a rugged eloquence, this appeal
called on all good Englishmen to make a stand for the
Church of Christ, which wicked men were destroying, for
the commonwealth of the realm, and for their livings, which
were bled by oppressive taxes.

Whoever wrote the letter, it did its work. One scene
out of many will illustrate the effect : —

" William Stapleton, a friend of Aske, and a brother
barrister, also bound to London for the term, was spending
a few days at the Grey Friars at Beverley with his brother
Christopher. The latter had been out of health, and had
gone thither for change of air, with his wife. The young
lawyer was to have set out over the Humber on the 4th of

202 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

October. At three in the morning his servant woke him,
with the news that the Lincolnshire beacons were on fire
and the country was impassable. Beverley itself was in
the greatest excitement ; the sick brother was afraid to be
left alone, and William Stapleton agreed for the present to
remain and take charge of him. On Sunday morning,
October 8th, they were startled by the sound of the alarm-
bell. A servant who was sent out to learn what had happened
brought in word that an address had arrived from Robert
Aske, and that a proclamation was out, under the town
seal, calling on every man to repair to Westwood Green,
-under the walls of the Grey Friars, and be sworn into the
Commons. Christopher Stapleton, a sensible man, made
somewhat timid by illness, ordered all doors to be locked
and bolted, and gave directions that no one of his house-
hold should stir. His wife, a hater of Protestants, an
admirer of Queen Catherine, of the Pope, and the old
religion, was burning with sympathy for the insurgents.
The family confessor appeared on the scene — a certain
Father Bonaventura — taking the lady's part, and they two
together ' went forth out of the door among the crowd.'
* God's blessing on ye,' William Stapleton heard his sister-
in-law cry. ' Speed ye well,' the priest cried ; ' speed ye
well in your godly purposes.' The people rushed about
them. ' Where are your husband and his brother ? ' they
shouted to her. 'In the Freers,' she answered. 'Bring
them out ! ' the cry rose. ' Pull them out by the head, or
we will burn the Freers and them within it ! ' Back flew
the lady in haste, and perhaps in scorn, to urge forward her
hesitating lord — he wailing, wringing his hands, wishing
himself out of the world ; she exclaiming it was God's
•quarrel — let him rise and show himself a man. The

Robert A sice. 203

•dispute lingered ; the crowd grew impatient the doors
were dashed in ; they rushed into the hall, and thrust the
oath down the throat of the reluctant gentleman, and as
•they surged back they swept the brother out with them
upon the green. Five hundred voices were crying, ' Cap-
tains ! captains ! ' and presently a shout rose above the
rest, ' Master William Stapleton shall be our captain ! '
And so it was to be : the priest Bonaventura had willed it
so ; and Stapleton, seeing worse would follow if he refused,
•consented.

" It was like a contagion of madness. Instantly he was
wild like the rest. ' Forward ! ' was the cry j whither, who
knew or cared ? only ' Forward ! ' And as the multitude
rocked to and fro, a splashed rider spurred through the
streets like a man distraught ; eyes staring, hair streaming,
shouting as he passed that they should rise and follow,
and flashing away like a meteor.

"So went Sunday, at Beverley, the Sthof October, 1536;
and within a few days the substance of the same scene
repeated itself in all the towns of all the northern counties,
the accidents only varying. The same spirit was abroad
as in Lincolnshire ; but here were strong heads and strong
wills which could turn the wild humour to a purpose — men
who had foreseen the catastrophe, and were prepared to
use it." *

The Yorkshiremen were very different from the men of
Lincoln. Instead of assembling and marching in unwieldly
crowds, without chiefs or discipline, accoutrements or pro-
visions, the Yorkshire insurgents picked out their tallest
and sturdiest men, furnished them with arms, raised money
by a rate from house to house, sent them forth with a
• Froude, ii., c. 13.

204 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

month's wages in their pockets, and a promise of a con-
tinuance should their sendees be prolonged. On October
13th Robert Aske was at the head of an army of foot
and horse furnished admirably at all points. Each parish
furnished its own contingent towards the Holy War, for
their religion and liberty of conscience, and each parish
band was headed by the cross of its church, borne by the
priest.

The first great rendezvous in Yorkshire was on Weighton
Common. Hither came Stapleton with nine thousand men
out of Holderness and Beverley. The two divisions en-
camped on the heath, and Aske was acknowledged as the
commander of the entire force. Stapleton was ordered to
march upon Hull, which was held by Sir Ralph Ellerker
the elder and Sir George Conyers for the King ; and Aske
was to move upon York.

On Sunday, October 15 th, the main army crossed the Der-
went, and marched on York On Monday it was before the
gates. The citizens, to a man, were in the interest of the
rebellion ; but the Mayor did not open the gates till he had
made terms of capitulation with Aske. It was engaged
that no pillage should be permitted, no injury of any kind
be done. A fixed price was to be paid for provisions,
and only the cavalry were to be quartered within the walls.
These terms were sworn to, and punctually observed.

Aske's first act on entering York was to fix a proclama-
tion on the doors of the Minster, inviting the dispossessed
monks and nuns to return to their cloisters. The deserted
convents and monasteries were speedily prepared for them
by willing hands, and the poor scared religious crept forth
from their hiding-places, and returned once more to the old
haunts they had loved, and in which they had spent such

Robert Ashe. 20 :

guileless, peaceful years. Their delight was unbounded.
" Though it were never so late when they returned, the
friars sang matins the same night." *

In the meantime, Lord Darcy, a gallant old nobleman
who had fought against the Moors by the side of Ferdi-
nand, was in Pontefract. He was without commission
from the King, without authority to issue instructions and
raise an army to put down the rebellion ; he knew also
that he might have called, but who would have answer 2d
his summons ? His sympathies, moreover, were with the
insurgents. He had viewed with profound distaste the
spoliation of the convents, and with greater alarm the
encouragement given to the spread of novel doctrines.

He was in Pontefract with only twelve men, Edward
Lee, Archbishop of York, Sir Robert Constable, Lord
Neville, and Sir Nicholas Babthorpe.

There he received a letter from the King, telling him
to make it known " that he had never thought to take one
pennyworth of the parish churches' goods from them," which
was a lie, and a useless lie, for the churches had already
been despoiled of their eucharistic plate. Lord Darcy
wrote to the King to say that there were sixty thousand
men in arms, forty thousand in harness ; the whole popu-
lation was with them; he could not trust his own retainers;
and that Pontefract was defenceless.

On Tuesday, the 17th, couriers brought news to Aske
at York, that the Commons of Durham were hastening to
join him under Lord Latimer, Lord Lumley, and the Earl
of Westmoreland. Northumberland was in arms under the
Percies.

On Thursday afternoon, Oct. 19th, Aske arrived at
• The Earl of Oxford to Cromwell (Froude, ii., c 13).

206 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

Pontefract; and finding that the citizens were on his-
side, he sent a message that the castle must be delivered,
or it would be stormed. A conference was demanded and
agreed to. Hostages were sent in by Aske. Lord Darcy,
the Archbishop, and the other noblemen and gentlemen,
came to the gate.

" And there and then the said Aske declared unto the
said Lords spiritual and temporal the griefs of the Com-
mons ; and how first the Lords spiritual had not done their
duty, in that they had not been plain with the King's
Highness for the speedy remedy and punishing of heresy,
and the preachers thereof; and for the taking the orna-
ments of the churches and abbeys suppressed ; the irre-
verent demeanour of the doers thereof; the abuse of the
vestments taken extraordinary; and other their negligences
in doing their duty, as well to their Sovereign as to the
Commons.

" And to the Lords temporal the said Aske declared
they had misused themselves, in that they had not pru-
dently declared to his Highness the poverty of the realm,
whereby all dangers might have been avoided ; for inas-
much as in the north parts much of the relief of the
Commons was by favour of the abbeys, and that therefore
that this last statute made the King's Highness had no
money out of that shire in award yearly, for that his Grace's
revenues of them went to the finding of Berwick ; now the
property of the abbeys suppressed, tenths and first-fruits,
went out of those parts ; by occasion whereof, within short
space of years, there should no money nor treasure there
be left ; neither the tenant have to pay his yearly rent to
his lord, nor the lord have money to do the King service."*
* Rolls House MS., in Froude.

Robert A sice. 207

Lord Darcy asked for time. If not relieved, he under-
took to surrender on Saturday. He knew that Lord
Shrewsbury was rapidly marching to Pontefract, and was
already at Newark, with a large force. Aske, however,
who knew the necessity for gaining such a powerful position
before the arrival of the royal troops, and who knew that
there were only twelve men in the castle, would not hear of
so long delay.

He allowed Lord Darcy till eight o'clock the following
morning to make up his mind. At the appointed hour
a fresh delay was demanded, but was peremptorily refused,
the alternative being an immediate storm ; the drawbridge
was lowered, the rebels took possession of the castle, and
Lord Darcy, the Archbishop of York, and every other man
within the walls, high and low, was sworn to the common
oath.

On the afternoon of the surrender the insurgent leaders
were sitting at dinner in the great hall. A letter was
brought in and delivered to Lord Darcy. He read it, and
dropped it with a heavy sigh. It stated that Lord
Shrewsbury would be that night at Pontefract. Before
night all the passages of the river by which Shrewsbury
could advance had been secured.

In the meantime Hull had surrendered to Stapleton.
So it went over the whole North; scarce a blow was struck
anywhere. The whole population was swept along in the
general current, anil Skipton Castle alone in Yorkshire
held out for the Crown. All the great families of the
North except the Cliffords, the Dacres, and the Musgraves,
had come into the confederacy. Six peers or eldest sons
of peers were with Aske at Pontefract. Lord Westmore-
land was represented by Lord Neville. Lords Latimer,

2o8 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

Darcy, Lumley, Scrope, and Conyers were there in
person. Besides these, there were the Constables of
Flamborough, the Tempests of Durham, Fairfaxes,
Strangways, Bulmers, Lascelles, Nortons, Moncktons,
Gowers, Ingoldsbys, and a host of other representatives of
the landed gentry of the North.

Whilst this was going on, the King and his Government
were straining every nerve to meet the emergency.

Reinforcements were ordered under the commands of
the Earls of Rutland and Huntingdon, and the Marquis of
Exeter. The Duke of Norfolk was ordered to join the
force under Lord Shrewsbury. He did so reluctantly at
the head of three thousand men, and the royal army halted
at Doncaster. The town was in their hands; the autumn
rains had swollen the river, securing their flank. The
Duke was, so ran his instructions, to avoid the dangerous
issue of a battle. He wrote his intention " to esteem no
promise that he made to them (the rebels), nor think his
honour touched in the breach of the same."

Lord Shrewsbury, as soon as he found himself too late
to prevent the capture of Pontefract, sent the Lancaster
Herald thither with a proclamation, which he was to read
at the market-cross. As he approached Pontefract he
overtook crowds of the country people upon the road,
who, in answer to his questions, told him they were in
arms to defend Holy Church, which wicked men were
destroying. In Pontefract he was arrested before he
could unroll his proclamation and brought before Robert
Aske.

The commander of the insurgents read the proclamation,
and then said to the herald : — " I will go to London, I and
my company, a pilgrimage to the King's Highness, and

Robert Ashe. 209

there we will have all the vile blood of his Council put
from him, and all the noble blood set up again, and
also the faith of Christ and His laws to be kept, and
full restitution to Christ's Church for all the wrongs done
unto it j and also the commonalty to be used as they
should be."

The herald asked to have this answer in writing. The
chief wrote it, signed it, and then, presenting the paper
to the herald said, " This is mine act, whoever says
aught to the contrary. I mean no harm to the King's
person; but I will die in the quarrel, and my people
with me."

The insurgents marched from Pontefract in three divi-
sions. Sir Thomas Percy, at the head of five thousand
men, carried the banner of S. Cuthbert. In the second
division, over ten thousand strong, were the men of the
West Riding and Holderness, under Robert Aske. The
rear was a magnificent body of twelve thousand horse, all
in armour — the knights, esquires, and yeomen of Richmond
and Durham.

In this order they came down to the Don, where their
advanced posts were already stationed, and deployed along
the banks from Ferrybridge to Doncaster.

The Duke of Norfolk, in accordance with instructions,
lay still, and showed no signs of fighting. The gallant
North-countrymen shrank from being the first to shed
blood. Their professed intention was not to fight, but to
march — an armed pilgrimage, the Pilgrimage of Grace — to
London, to lay their sorrows, the wrongs of Holy Church,
their fears lest religion should be innovated on, before the
throne of the Sovereign. They hoped the armed demon-
stration would have its effect. If they fought, if they pro-
voi.. 11. p

210 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

voked a battle, they could not maintain their position that
they were loyal subjects.

The Duke of Norfolk skilfully availed himself of this-
feeling in the great host to enter on negotiations, fully pro-
posing to himself " to esteem no promise that he made to-
them, nor think his honour touched in the breach of the
same."

Endless parleys and negotiations were begun. Lord
Darcy knew that delay was fatal, and he urged an imme-
diate onslaught. But Aske had not his experience. He
had never seen war; he trusted that the display of the
feeling and strength of the North would obtain concessions y
as a man of profound religious sentiment, he shrank from
shedding of blood till forced to assume the offensive by
the failure of negotiations.

On Friday, October 27th, a conference was held on-
the bridge over the Don by Lords Latimer, Lumley,
Darcy, Sir Robert Constable, and Sir John Bulmer, on the
side of the Pilgrims of Grace, and an equal number of
knights and noblemen from Norfolk's army. Robert Aske
remained on the bank of the Don, " the whole host stand-
ing with him in perfect array." The conference lasted till
darkness fell, and with it set the hopes of the insurgents.
It was agreed that Sir Richard Bower and Sir Ralph
Ellerker should carry the petition of the Pilgrims of
Grace to the King, and that the Duke of Norfolk should
escort them in person, and intercede for their favourable
hearing. Meanwhile, and till the King's reply was known,
there was to be truce.

The Duke and the two messengers reached London on
November 1st. Full of craft, Henry detained them a
fortnight without giving them an answer, and in that time

Robert A site. 2 1 r

succeeded in bribing or persuading the two gentlemen to
desert the cause which they were sent to plead, and come
over to the safer and more profitable side of the Crown.

It had been made one of the articles of convention that
during the truce, till the King's answer was known, neither
side should gather troops, but Henry disregarded this
promise, and by infinite exertion secured the services of
fifty thousand reliable men.

In the meantime, also, letters from the King had been
sent to the principal nobles who had joined the rebellion,
and proclamations were issued to the people.

Aske began to despair of receiving an answer from the
King. He therefore determined to call a Parliament and
Convocation of the northern notables to sit at York.

The weather changed ; an early winter set in, and the
rivers either fell or froze, and still no answer from Henry.
The King, blind to what was honourable, took a disgrace-
ful advantage of the occasion. The insurgents were
bound by the terms of their agreement not to advance or
execute any hostile movement till the King's answer came •
the same terms were accepted by the Duke of Norfolk, but
Henry would not be tied by them. He would send no
answer, and all the while he was marching men to the
North to crush the rebellion. He did more. He ordered
Lord Shrewsbury to advance. Shrewsbury hesitated —
perhaps at the danger; more probably at the dishonour.
He wrote to Henry j but the King would not hear of his
will being opposed. His musters were coming up in strength.

Anthony Curtis, a cousin of Aske, volunteered, under
cloak of his kinsnianship, to penetrate into the camp ot
Robert Aske, and assassinate him. His offer was not
scouted.

212 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

On Monday, Nov. 27 th, the Northern Parliament
assembled, not at York, but at Pontefract. Thirty-five
peers and knights, besides gentlemen and leaders of the
Commons, sat in the Castle Hall ; the clergy and the
Archbishop of York in the church. The discussions ot
the Convocation were opened by the Archbishop in a
sermon, in which he denounced the insurrection as trai-
torous and the Parliament as unlawful. His voice was
drowned by the indignant cries of clergy ; he was dragged
from the pulpit, thrown on the floor, and was only saved
from being killed by some of his friends. The clergy
then drew up a series of resolutions pronouncing succes-
sively against each step taken in the Reformation ; and
other articles were simultaneously drawn up by the
council in the Hall.

On Nov. 29th the Duke of Norfolk arrived with ex-
tensive powers at Doncaster. He was to grant formally
two concessions to the insurgents — a free pardon if they
laid down their arms, and a promise that there should be
held a Parliament at York. For the rest, the commis-
sioners were to deceive the Pilgrims into believing that
what they wanted would be granted, but were to promise
nothing outright. To the Duke of Norfolk was added, as
royal commissioner, Sir John Russell. On the same day
Lord Darcy, Robert Aske, and three hundred of the most
prominent men of their party, passed the bridge of the
Don with safe - conduct into the town. Wearing their
Pilgrims' badges — the five wounds of Christ embroidered
on their breasts — " they made obeisance on their knees
before the Duke and Earls, and did humbly require to have
the King's most merciful and free pardon for any their
offences committed." This done, they presented the reso-

Robert Aske. 2 1 3

lutions of the Parliament and Convocation of Ponteiract.
Debates and negotiations followed till Dec. 2, when an
agreement was made and signed. The pardon and the
Parliament were directly promised. Other engagements
were made which the insurgents confidently believed gave
them all they hoped and prayed for. They were deluded
into this belief; and so the conference closed with Aske
and the lords and gentlemen with him removing the badge
of their pilgrimage — the five red wounds — from their
breasts, saying — " We will wear no badge nor figure now
but the badge of our sovereign."

So these gallant men were allowed to retire, basely de-
ceived, to disperse, and spread abroad the joyful news
among the people that the King in his mercy had yielded
to their requests ; the monks would be allowed to retenant
their cloisters, the old religion would be left undisturbed,
and false doctrine would be no longer tolerated and sup-
ported in the land.

The great host melted away as rapidly as it had
assembled. By the end of December many of the gentle-
men who had been in the insurrection had sone to
London and seen the King, who won them back to an
unreserved allegiance. Lord Darcy and Sir Robert Con-
stable had been invited, but declined to present themselves,
one on the plea of sickness, the other out of fear hiding
in a remote tower. "Aske alone, the truest and the
bravest, ventured to the King's presence. He saw the
King, and wrote out for him a straightforward and manly
statement of his conduct, extenuating nothing, boasting
of nothing, relating merely the simple and literal truth.
Henry repeated his assurance to him that the Parliament
should meet at York ; and Aske returned, hoping against

214 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

hope — at all events, exerting himself to make others hope-
that the promises which they supposed to have been made
to them at Doncaster would eventually be fulfilled. To
one person alone he ventured to use other language.
Immediately that he reached Yorkshire he wrote to the
King, describing the agitation which still continued, and
his omi efforts to appease it. He dwelt on the expec-
tations which had been formed, and in relating the
expressions which were used by others he indicated not
obscurely his own dissatisfaction." *

"I do perceive," he said, "a marvellous conjecture in
the breasts of the people, which is, they do think they shall
not have the Parliament in convenient time." He goes on
enumerating reasons which led people to doubt that the
King intended keeping his word with them, and con-
cluded with — " Finally, I could not perceive in all the
shires, as I came from your Grace homewards, but your
Grace's subjects be wildly minded in their hearts towards
commotions or assistance thereof, by whose abetment yet
I know not ; wherefore, sire, I beseech your Grace to
pardon me in this my rude letter and plainness of the
same, for I do utter my poor heart to your Grace to the
intent your Highness may perceive the danger that may
ensue ; for on my faith I do greatly fear the end to be
only by battle."

These were the words of a plain, honest man — a man
unaccustomed to the guile, deception, and falsehoods
which were practised unscrupulously by princes for their
own purposes. He had trusted the King's word, as the
word of a Christian man ; but his heart began to fail him
when he saw signs that the King had not meant to keep his
word, yet he blushed to let his thought slip from his pen.
* Froude, ii. c. 13.

Robert A she. 21.

Large garrisons were placed in Newcastle, Scarborough,
and Hull, to quell insurrection when the intentions of the
King became manifest. Royal officers penetrated the
country, compelling suspected persons to sue out their
pardons by taking the oath ot allegiance in a form con-
structed for the occasion.

Loud outcries were raised ; the people resented the
flight of frightened gentlemen to London to make their
submission. They charged them with cowardice, with
desertion of the good cause for the sake of securing their
heads and their acres. The royal promises were a delusion
Nothing more was heard of the promised Parliament, no
redress of wrongs had been granted. The specious
promises of the King had been bubbles which had burst.
Sir Francis Bigod, of Mogreve Castle, in Blakemore,
headed the new rising, and in January, 1537, issued a
•circular inviting a muster at Settington. Bigod was a
pretentious pedant. He succeeded in getting possession
of Beverley; but the late leaders, whose names still
possessed authority — Robert Aske, Lord Darcy, and Sir
Robert Constable — lost no time in denouncing him. His
men fell away from him, and he was prisoner.

Other risings took place in Westmoreland and Cleveland.
Carlisle, where was the Duke of Norfolk, was attacked.

" Our pleasure is," wrote Henry VIII. to the Duke,
" before you close up our banner again, you shall cause
such dreadful execution to be done upon a good number
of the inhabitants of every town, village, and hamlet that
have offended, as they may be a fearful spectacle to all
others." The Duke mildly hung only seventy-four
persons, instead of executing in its full severity this
brutal order.

2 1 6 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

Suddenly, in April, Aske, Darcy, and Constable were
seized and conveyed to the Tower. They had done then-
best to discredit Bigod and disperse his followers. They
had been guiltless of participating in the abortive rising
in Cleveland. There is no evidence that Aske, at least,,
was meditating another rebellion. Apparently the King,
was no more sincere in his promise of pardon than in that
of a Parliament of York. A decent space of time, five
months, was allowed to elapse between making the
covenant and breaking it. Some cannons which Aske
had obtained at Pontefract it was alleged had not been
surrendered ; he had dared to intercede for the life of a
traitor, Hallam, at Hull.

With the sweet spring weather the time for hanging
came. Twenty Lincoln men were gibbeted.

Then came the turn for the Northern men. In May
they were brought up for trial in three batches. There
was some difficulty in procuring the condemnation of them
all. The Crown was forced to use intimidation.
"Cromwell," said Lord Darcy, "it is thou that art the
special and chief causer of all this rebellion and mischief,
and art likewise causer of the apprehension of us, and
dost daily earnestly travel to bring us to our ends and to
strike off our heads. I trust that ere thou die, though
thou wouldst procure all the noblemen's heads within the
realm to be stricken off, yet there shall be one head
remain that shall strike off thine."

" Of Aske," says Mr. Froude, " we catch glimpses which
show that he was something more than a remarkable
leader. A short entry tells us that six or seven days after
his arrest, 'his servant, Robert Wall (let his name be
remembered), did cast himself upon his bed, and cried,

Robert Ashe. 217

" Oh my master ! oh my master ! they will draw him, and
hang him, and quarter him," and therewith he did die for
sorrow.' Aske had lost a friend when friends were needed.
In a letter which he wrote to Cromwell he said that he
had been sent up in haste without clothes or money ; that
no one of his relations would help him ; and that unless
the King would be his good and gracious lord, he knew
not how he would live. His confessions during his
imprisonment were free and ample. He asked for his
life, yet with a dignity which would stoop to no falsehood,,
and pretend to no repentance beyond a general regret
that he should have offended the King. Then, as
throughout, he showed himself a brave, simple, noble-
minded man."

Bills against them were found. Darcy was arraigned
before twenty-two peers, and was condemned to death.
Fifteen commoners on the same day were tried before a
special commission in Westminster Hall.

Sir Thomas Percy, Sir Stephen Hamarton, Sir John and
Lady Bulmer, pleaded guilty. A verdict was given against
Aske, Constable, Bigod, Lumley, and seven more. Sixteen
knights, nobles, and gentlemen who a few months before
laid down their arms and ripped off their badges, trusting
in the King's promise of free pardon, were sentenced to
die an ignominious death.

Some fragments written in the interval after the sentence
by Darcy and Aske still remain. Darcy was nearly eighty
years old, yet his bold handwriting shows no signs of age
or agitation : —

" After judgment given, the petitions of Thomas Lord
Darcy, to the King's Grace, by my Lord Privy Seal.

" First, to have confession ; and at a mass to receive my

2 1 8 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

Maker, that I may depart like a Christian man out of this
vale of misery.

"Second, that incontinent after my death my whole
body may be buried with my late wife, the Lady Neville, in
the Freers at Greenwich.

" Third, that the straitness of my judgment may be miti-
gated after the King's mercy and pleasure.

"Fourth, that my debts may be paid according to a
schedule enclosed."

Aske wrote to Cromwell, requesting that his poor inno-
cent children might have some provision made for them
out of his confiscated property. The prayer was granted.
So also was that of Aske and Darcy, that they might be
spared the revolting horrors of drawing and quartering.
Darcy was executed on Tower Hill on June 20th. Sir
Thomas Percy, Bigod, the Abbots of Fountains and of
Jervaux, Hamarton, Sir John Bulmer, young Lumley. and
Nicholas Tempest were hanged at Tyburn. Lady Bulmer
was burnt alive at Smithfield. A town correspondent, in a
letter to Sir Henry Saville, after briefly mentioning the
burning of the unfortunate lady, urges Sir Henry to fly to
London to be in for the pickings of the confiscated estates
and the pleasures of the London season.

Robert Aske and Sir Robert Constable were ordered to
be hung in Yorkshire. At the beginning of June they
were paraded through the eastern counties under the
charge of Sir Thomas Wentworth. At Lincoln they were
delivered into the custody of the Duke of Norfolk. Con-
stable suffered at Hull.

Aske in conversation with his confessor acknowledged
his treason, which indeed had been patent ; but it does not
appear that he admitted treasonable practices after his

Robert A sice, 2 1 9

pardon. The King had even sent him a token of free
pardon, and Cromwell had several times solemnly promised
him his life if he would make a full confession. He
■complained of the unworthy treatment he had received.
It pained his noble soul to think that his monarch had
duped and lied to him. But his bearing was quiet and
brave, and it was only to this confessor that he disclosed
the duplicity of the King.

He was taken to York, and drawn through the streets
upon a hurdle at eight o'clock in the morning of August
13th to be decapitated. At the scaffold, which was erected
in the Pavement, at the east end of All Hallows Church, he
asked the people to pray for him, and remember their
rights and privileges as true-born Englishmen, and not to
be deterred by his death, for he had done no more than
was his duty. His face was bright and smiling when he
kneeled down to pray, and he remained a quarter of an
hour on his knees engaged in fervent devotion. He then
submitted his head to the axe.

After the execution, the body was taken to a black-
smith's named Pyements, who riveted chains on the lifeless
remains. Next morning, at five o'clock, the sheriff and
his officers, with a troop 01 light horse and a large number
of citizens, took the body to Heworth Moor, where a
gibbet was erected thirty-five feet high. The body was
suspended from it, and the sheriff then read his proclama-
tion, threatening imprisonment for twenty years to anyone
found removing the body or injuring the gibbet* Aske
was aged fifty-eight when he died.

• "Criminal Chronology of York Castle." Compiled from
■documents, &c. 1S07.

2 20 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

m^m&m

BROTHER JUCUNDUS.

|T York were two religious houses — S. Mary's
Abbey and S. Leonard's Priory — so close to-
gether that their walls abutted. The magnifi-
cent ruins of S. Mary's Abbey Church, the heavy
fragments of the Priory Church of S. Leonard's, now stand
in the gardens of the Botanical Society, and resound no
longer to the sound of psalmody, but to the strains of the
band playing marches, waltzes, and overtures.

At the close of the fifteenth century, before the Dissolu-
tion was thought of, there lived, and fasted, and prayed in
S. Leonard's Priory a fat monk named Brother Jucundus.
He had not been long in the house. He had joined the
order in a fit of headache and remorse, after heavy pota-
tions on the occasion of the installation of a new Lord
Mayor, and it is possible — probable, I suspect — that he
somewhat regretted his precipitancy. Yet there was no
escape. The irrevocable vows were on him; for life he
was bound to eat only vegetables and bread, drink very
small beer, and sleep only six hours in the night.

Convivial songs floated through his mind when he ought
to have been chanting the Psalms of David, and the flavour
of old sack rose upon his palate when he looked dolefully
down at dinner-time into his mug of " swipes."

Brother Jucundus. 2 2 1

A year passed. The full paunch of Brother Jucundus
began to subside ; his fat cheeks to fall flabby, like the dew-
laps of a cow j a dispirited expression took the place of the
watery twinkle which had once animated his eye.

Come what might, Brother Jucundus felt he must have a
fling. He should die without it. Just one jollification in
the twelvemonth, and then he would put up for the rest of
the year with beans and cabbage, small beer and matins
before dawn.

York fair approached. York fair ! of all that is ravish-
ing ! The shows of dancing dogs, the whirli-go-rounds,
the giantesses and dwarfs, the " spice " stalls, the drinking-
booths ! To York fair he must, he would go, if condemned
to a bean and a thimbleful of water for fasting dinner ever
after.

And go he did. He managed it in this way : — After
dinner the whole community took an hour's sleep. As
they rose at midnight and dined at mid-day, this was very
necessary, and the Priory was silent, save for snores, from
one o'clock to two. At half-past one Brother Jucundus
stole to the porter's lodge, found the porter asleep in his
chair — so took possession of his keys ; went to the Prior's
apartment ; the Prior was asleep ; pocketed a crown from
his money-box, and left the Priory.

At two o'clock the community awoke. The porter
missed his keys. The Prior missed the crown. All the
monks were summoned into the chapter-house, and all
missed Brother Jucundus.

After long deliberation it was decided that two sedate
and trusty brothers should be sent out in quest of him.

It was a bright, sunny afternoon. Jucundus had enjoyed
himself amazingly. The amount of gingerbread horses

222 Yorkshire Oddities and Incide?its.

and men he had consumed was prodigious. He had seen
" The Spotted Boy " and " The Bearded Woman " ; he
had gone round in the whirligig on the back of a wooden
horse ; he had shot for nuts at a mark, and won his pocket
full, which he cracked every now and then, and washed
down with a draft of really good ale. And now, just now,
he was going up in the boat of a great see-saw, with a
foaming tankard in his hand, his jolly red face illumined
with glee, and his ample throat thundering forth —

M In duke jubilo-o-o,
Up, up, up we go-o-o " ;

when his sweet jubilee was cut short by the sight of two
monks from his Priory, with grim faces, making their way
towards the see-saw.

Brother Jucundus tried to scramble out, and in so
doing tumbled down. He was picked up. Either his
libations, or the fall, or disinclination to return to S.
Leonard's weakened his legs, and he tottered so much
that the reverend fathers were obliged to put him in a
wheelbarrow and roll him to the Priory gate. At the
entrance stood the Prior with a brow of thunder.

Brother Jucundus looked pleasantly up in his face from
out of his conveyance, smiled benignantly, and piped —

" In duke jubilo-o-o,
Up, up, up we go-o-o."

The chapter was still sitting, stern and threatening.

The helpless monk was trundled in his barrow into the
midst of the assembled fathers, to be tried and sentenced.

He had been caught, flagrante delicto, in a see-saw,
drunk, riotous, and incapable. Nevertheless, Brother
Jucundus was not disposed to view his case unfavourably.

Brother J ucttndus. 223

He looked round on the chapter with an affectionate

glance from out of his watery eye, and the kindest, most

winsome smile on his ruddy cheeks.

He was asked at once for his defence. Pie murmuredr

with a hiccup —

" In dulce jubilo-o-o."

The sentence was unanimous, and unfalteringly given.
He was to be walled alive into a niche in the Priory cellar.
The execution was to be carried into effect immediately.

As he was helped down the cellar stairs, some glimmer
of his situation came in on the mind of Jucundus, and he
sadly trolled out —

" Down, down, down we go-o-o."

A convenient niche was soon found. A cruse of water
and a loaf of bread, with cruel mockery, were placed in the
recess. The ready hands of zealous monks mixed the
mortar, brought the bricks, and in a quarter of an hour
Brother Jucundus was firmly walled in to his living grave.

Now for the first time did the extreme inconvenience ol
his position break upon the unfortunate monk. In the
wheelbarrow he had been able to sit ; here he was walled
upright. It was cramping, intolerable. He kicked, he
pressed backwards with all his might ; and suddenly, with
a crash, the wall behind him gave way, and he rolled back-
wards over a heap of fallen bricks into a cellar.

The shock brought him completely to his senses. Where
was he? Now he saw the gravity of his offence — the
terrible fate that had been prepared for him. Escape
was fortunately open to him. He ran up the cellar stairs,
and found himself in the Abbey of S. Mary's. The
cellars of the two monasteries had adjoined ; a wall alone

224 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

had divided them. He had tumbled out of S. Leonard's
into S. Mary's.

S. Mary's Abbey belonged to the severe Cistercian
Order. Complete silence was one of the rules of the
society. Except on Easter-day, no monk might speak;
on Easter-day every one talked, and nobody listened.
When Brother Jucundus accordingly appeared in the
cloisters, no monk turned to look at him, or asked him
u how the saints he had come there ? " but swept by him
like a ghost. Jucundus made himself as much at home as
was possible. He took his place at table, ate and drank
what was set before him, occupied a pallet in the common
dormitory, lifted his voice in concert with the others in
the Abbey choir, and nobody meddled with him. The
monks, if they thought about him at all — and it was
against their rules to think of anything but their own
spiritual affairs — thought he was a new monk just joined
in the usual accepted manner.

A twelvemonth passed. It had been dull in S.
Leonard's ; it was duller in S. Mary's. The day came
round on which York fair was held, the day, that happy
day, which had ended so dolorously.

Now the day before York fair the office of cellarer
fell vacant in S. Mary's Abbey by the death of the monk
who had presided over the wine and beer. The Abbot
by a happy inspiration committed the keys to Brother
Jucundus. Here was an opportunity ! If York fair might
not be enjoyed in the market-place and the Pavement,
he would at least commemorate it in the Abbey cellar.

On York fair-day, accordingly, Brother Jucundus, after
having seen all his fellow-monks safe in bed, stole
down the stone steps into the vault where were the

Brother Jucundus. 225

"barrels, with a tankard in his one hand and a lantern
in the other.

S. Mary's Abbey was often called upon to receive noble,
even royal guests, and entertain them nobly and royally.
It therefore contained barrels of very prime wine and very
strong audit ale. Brother Jucundus went along the range
of barrels trying one tipple after another. There is nothing
so dangerous as mixing your drink, and this the reverend
brother discovered at last, for he sat down, unable to pro-
ceed further, by the best cask of Malmsey, and turning
the tap, filled his tankard.

Next day at noon the Cistercians assembled in the
refectory for their frugal repast, dinner and breakfast in
one ; and as they had been up since midnight, and had
eaten and drunk nothing for twelve hours, were tolerably
hungry and dry. But the mugs were empty. At the
Abbot's table even was neither wine nor beer. The
silent fraternity bore with this some time, but at last even
the rules of the Order could not keep them perfectly
silent. They shuffled with their feet, growled and grunted
discontentedly. At last the Abbot, in a voice of thunder,
shouted —

" I want my beer ! " and the example of the head
becoming infectious, " Beer, beer, beer ! we all want our
beer ! " resounded from every part of the refectory.

" Where was the cellarer ? " Nobody knew. At last
two brothers were commissioned to go to the cellar and
fetch ale. They presently returned with awe-struck coun-
tenances, beckoned to the Abbot to follow them, and led
the way along the cloisters down the cellar stairs.
Curiosity, though against the rule, was infectious, and
all the monks crept en queue after the Abbot. When they

VOL. II. Q

226 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

reached the vault a shocking sight presented itself to their
eyes. Brother Jucundus lay with his head against the
butt of Malmsey, flourishing his tankard over his head,
and feebly, incoherently, trolling forth —

" In duke jubilo-o-o,
Up, up, up we go-o-o."

It was too flagrant an offence to be passed over. A
chapter of the Order was at once constituted in the cellar
itself. All the monks were present. Unanimously it was
decided that after solemn excommunication with bell,
book, and candle, the guilty brother should be walled up
alive on the scene of his crime in that very cellar.

The awful scene of excommunication was proceeded
with. It took some time, and during the ceremony
Brother Jucundus gradually resumed consciousness — the
fumes of Malmsey slowly evaporated. A convenient
recess was found, where a heap of crumbling bricks lay
prostrate. It was the identical nook out of which a year
and a day before Brother Jucundus had escaped into the
Cistercian Order and Abbey of S. Mary.

Into this niche therefore he was built. His terrible

position had not, however, as yet forced itself on the

monk's brain ; he still tasted Malmsey, still was his

heart buoyant, and with swelling lungs he roared forth his-

song —

" In duke jubilo-o-o
Up, up, up we go-o-o."

Now, it happened that the clocks in S. Leonard's and S.
Mary's differed by a quarter of an hour. That of S.
Leonard's was slower than that of S. Mary's. Conse-
quently it was only just dinner-time in S. Leonard's Priory,
and the cellarer, pitcher in hand, had just descended the

Brother J ucundus. 227

stairs, and was filling his vessel with small beer, when he
heard close to his ear, from behind the wall, a stentorian
voice thunder forth —

" In duke jubilo-o-o,
Up, up, up we go-0-0."

The voice, the strain, the words were those of Brother
Jucundus, who a year and a day before had been immured
at that very spot.

Down went the pitcher, and away fled the monk —
amazement, admiration in his countenance, " A miracle !
a miracle !" in his mouth — to the monks, just issuing from
the church and the recitation of Sext and the office for the
dead around the body of their Prior, lately deceased, and
that day to be buried.

The whole community rolled like a tidal wave down the
cellar-stairs, and stood with breathless awe in a circle
about the spot where twelve months and a day before they
had walled in Brother Jucundus.

It was a miracle — there could be no doubt of it. Eager
hands tore down the wall, and revealed the reverend
brother, hale and rosy as of yore, and at his side a loaf
as fresh as when put in, and a pitcher still full to the
brim.

There could be no doubt but that this was a special
interposition to establish the innocence of the monk, and
to indicate to the community who was to be their future
Prior.

With one voice they shouted, "Jucundus our Prior!
Saint Jucundus our head and father ! "

On the shoulders of the enthusiastic brethren the
miraculous monk was carried up-stairs and installed in
the Prior's seat in the chapterhouse.

228 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

Under him S. Leonard's jogged along very pleasantly,
and he did much in his long rule of the monastery for its
discipline and good order, if not to justify, at least to
excuse, the dissolution which fell on it immediately after
his death.

Yorkshire Recusants.

229

YORKSHIRE RECUSANTS.

ARY I. has perhaps justly earned her title of
" The Bloody " from the burnings of Protes-
tants which took place in her reign ; they were
in number 28S.* But it may be questioned
whether the reprisals on the Roman Catholics in
the reign of her sister Elizabeth were much less cruel ;
they were certainly more numerous. Hallam, in his
" Constitutional History of England," tells us that "the
rack seldom stood idle for all the latter part of Queen
Elizabeth's reign."

Two hundred and four died the horrible death of
hanging, drawing, and quartering for their religion. Fifteen
of these suffered for denying that the Queen was supreme
head of the Church, one hundred and twenty-six for
exercising their ministry as priests, the rest for having left
Protestantism for the Roman communion. But this in no
way exhausts the number of sufferers. Many died of their
hardships in prison ; many lost all their property, were
banished, and mutilated. The names of 1200 who
suffered in this manner before the year 15S8 — that is,

* According to the highest estimate ; others reduce the number
to 227.

230 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

before the greatest heat of the persecution — have been
collected by Dr. Bridgewater. Many of these died in
prison under sentence of death.

Dr. Lingard says — "In 1578, Whitgift, Bishop of
Worcester and Vice-President of Wales, was ordered to
employ torture to force answers from Catholics suspected
of having heard mass.* The Catholic prisoner was hardly
lodged in the Tower before he was placed on the rack.
During the reign of Elizabeth the first victim who suffered
hanging and quartering for the sole exercise of his ministry
was Thomas Woodhouse. After him 123 other priests.
Moreover, thirty men and two women were executed as
felons for harbouring and abetting priests, besides numbers
of clergymen and laymen who died of their sufferings in
prison. Generally the court dispensed with the examination
of witnesses. By artful and ensnaring questions an avowal
was drawn from the prisoner that he had been reconciled
(to the Roman Church) ; or had harboured a priest ; or
had been ordained beyond the sea \ or that he admitted
the ecclesiastical supremacy of the Pope, or rejected that
of the Queen. Any one of these crimes was sufficient to
consign him to the scaffold. Life, indeed, was offered
on condition of conformity to the established worship ;
but the offer was generally refused, and the refusal was
followed by death; and the butchery, with very few
exceptions, was performed on the victim while he was yet
in perfect possession of his senses."

It may be as well to notice some of the laws passed in
the reigns of Edward VI. and Elizabeth, to give some idea
of the terrible oppression exercised on the unfortunate
Catholics.

* Strype's Life of Arch. Whitgift, 83.

Yorkshire Recusants. 231

Nov. 4th, 1547, the Parliament passed a law that any-
one speaking or preaching against the newly-authorised
liturgy for the administration of the Lord's Supper " should
be imprisoned, and make fine and ransome at the King's
will and pleasure." *

Any priest refusing to use the new liturgy was to be
deprived and suffer imprisonment for life, and any lay
person speaking against the Book of Common Prayer, or
attending any other religious service except that of the
Established Church, for the first offence forfeited ten
pounds or suffered three months' imprisonment; for the
second offence, twenty pounds, or six months' imprison-
ment ; and for the third, the forfeiture of all goods and
chattels, and imprisonment for life, f

Another law enacts that because many people
would not attend their parish churches since the change of
religion, such persons as do not attend their parish
churches on Sundays and holy-days, " for the first offence
shall suffer six months' imprisonment without bail or
mainprize ; for the second offence, a year's imprisonment ;
and for the third offence, imprisonment for life." %

In the first year of Elizabeth it was required that laymen
or women should pay one shilling for every time they did
•not attend their parish churches, and that if they should
speak against the Book of Common Prayer, for the first
offence they should be imprisoned for six months ; for the
second, should suffer a year's imprisonment ; and for the
third, should be incarcerated for life.§ And if any one,
after April 1st, 1563, should maintain in writing the Pope's
.supremacy in the Church he should be guilty of high

* 1 Edw. VI. c. i. t 3 Edw. VI. c. L

X 6 Edw. VI. c. i. $ 1 Eliz. c ii.

232 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

treason — that is, if a man, he should be hung, but cut down
alive, his breast and stomach sliced open, his heart, still
palpitating, be drawn out, and then that while yet warm
his limbs should be hacked off, dipped in boiling pitch,
and exposed over the gates on spikes; but if a woman,
that she should be burnt alive.*

Another law passed later provided " that they who
should reconcile any person to the Church of Rome, and
those who should leave the Established Church for the
Roman communion, should be guilty of high treason —
that is, be subjected to the same horrible death. And
also, that such as should relieve any one who had so recon-
ciled others, or should bring any crosses, pictures, rosaries,
&c, into England, consecrated by the Pope, should
undergo the penalty of praemunire — that is, their lands
and goods were forfeited, and their bodies imprisoned at
the King's pleasure."

Those who should not betray the hiding-places of
Popish priests who had reconciled Protestants to the
Church of Rome, were to be hung, drawn, and quar-
tered, f

It was again enacted, in 1581, that they should be guilty
of high treason who should commit the offences enume-
rated above, and also, whoever should say mass was to be
fined 200 marks and suffer imprisonment for a year, and
those who refused to attend the Anglican liturgy were fined
^"20 a month. J

In 1586 the Earl of Arundel, for having written to two-
Catholic priests to say that he thought of leaving England,
where he could not exercise his religion in freedom, was
fined five thousand pounds !

* 5 Eliz. c. L f 13 Eliz. c. ii. % 23 Eliz. c i.

Yorkshire Recusants.

Under James I., the laws against Papists became even
more cruel, restrictive, and harassing. They became
guilty, were imprisoned, and had their goods confiscated if
they sent their children to be educated abroad.* In 1622,
in the reign of King James I., the prisons were opened—
the Spanish marriage being then on the tapis, and James
inclined to be lenient — and 4000 Catholics were released.!

Among the Popish sufferers at York was the Rev.
William Hart, a native of Wells, in Somersetshire, and a
member of Lincoln College, Oxford. Not liking the
change in religion, he left Oxford and went to Douay to
pursue his studies there, and thence he went to Rheims^
He was then labouring under a terrible internal disease,
and his physicians declared that there was no remedy for
him but a surgical operation. During the operation he
prayed, and was so lost in devotion that he showed no-
sign of pain, to the astonishment of the surgeon. After
his recovery he was sent to Rome. S. Philip Neri one
day saw the students destined for England walking in the
street. He accosted them with reverence, saying, " Salvete
flores martyrum ! — All hail, ye martyr flowers ! "

From Rome William Hart was sent to England, to
Yorkshire, to minister to the Catholics there, who were very
numerous and in sore straits. His gentleness, winning
manner, and glowing faith, made him a general favourite.
His charity towards the poor Papists who crowded the
York prison was overflowing. These poor creatures were
dying in confinement in great numbers, being ill-fed and

* See the atrocious laws, 1 lac I. c. 4 ; 3 Jac. I. c. 4, 5 ; 7 Jac. I.
c. 6; and 3 Chas. I. c. 2 ; 25 Chas. II. c. 2 ; 30 Chas. II. c. 1.

t Wilson's "History," fol. 195 ; Rushworth's "Collection," i.
fol. 62, 63.

234 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

barbarously treated by their keepers. Every day he visited
them, encouraging them to suffer with patience, and
administering to them in secret the sacrament.

He was nearly captured on one occasion when assisting
at mass at night, but escaped. He was, however, taken
•six months after, when in bed and asleep, on the night
following Christmas-day, 1583.

He was sent to York Castle and lodged in a dungeon,
loaded with double irons. During his confinement he was
visited by the Dean of York and other clergy of the Esta-
blished Church, who urged him to conform to the State
religion ; but he gently, yet firmly, refused. He was tried
on the charge of having received ordination as a priest out
of England, and of having dispensed the sacraments to
Roman Catholics in her Majesty's realm. In reply to a
charge of high treason, he said that he acknowledged
obedience to the Queen in temporal matters, but that
obedience to the Pope in things spiritual was not incon-
sistent with hearty allegiance to the Queen in other matters
not involving religion.

When his sentence was pronounced, he murmured in
the words of Job, " The Lord hath given, and the
Lord hath taken away ; blessed be the name of the
Lord." He fasted the last six days before his execution,
and spent his nights in incessant prayer. He took
leave of his fellow-prisoners, thanked the chief gaoler
for his kindness, and was placed on a hurdle to be
^dragged to the place of martyrdom. On the way he was
pestered by the Rev. Mr. Bunny and the Rev. Mr. Pace,
who beset him with arguments against Popery, and at last
with reproaches. " Good Mr. Pace," said Hart, with a
.smile, " be so kind as to leave me in peace the short while

Yorkshire Recusants. 235

I have to live." Then raising his eyes, he began to recite
the psalm — " To thee lift I up mine eyes, O thou that
dwellest in the heavens."

The rope was put round his neck, and he was thrown
from the ladder on which he stood, and instantly cut down
alive, his body ripped open, and his warm beating heart
torn out of his bleeding body. He was then dismembered.
He suffered March 15 th, 1583.

John Amyas, a native of Yorkshire, trained at Douay, and
ordained priest in 1581, was sent on the English mission
in the same year with one Edmund Sykes ; and Robert
Dalby, a native of Durham, was sent from the same col-
lege on the same mission in 1588. Amyas and Dalby
were taken at York, and condemned to death for being
Roman Catholic priests. Dr. Champney, in his MS.
history, says : — " I was myself an eye-witness of the glorious
combat of these holy men, being at that time a young
man, in the twentieth year of my age. . . . They
were drawn about a mile out of the city to the place of
execution, where, being arrived and taken off the hurdle,
they prostrated themselves upon their faces to the ground,
and then employed some time in prayer, till Mr. Amias,
being called on by the sheriff, rose up, and with a serene
countenance walked to the gallows and kissed it ; then
kissing the ladder, he went up. The hangman, after fitting
the rope to his neck, bade him descend a step or two,
affirming that thus he would suffer the less. He then
turned to the people and declared that u the cause of his
death was not treason, but religion " ; but here he was
interrupted, and not suffered to go on. Therefore, com-
posing himself for death, with his eyes and hands lifted
up to heaven, forgiving all who had anyways procured his

236 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

death, and praying for his persecutors, he recommended
his soul to God, and being flung off the ladder he quietly-
expired, for he was suffered to hang so long till he seemed
to be quite dead. Then he was cut down, dismembered,
and disembowelled, his head cut off, and the trunk of his
body quartered.

u All this while his companion, Mr. Dalby, was most
intent in prayer; who, being called upon, immediately
followed the footsteps of him that had gone before him,
and obtained the like victory. The sheriffs men were
very watchful to prevent the standers-by from gathering
any of their blood, or carrying off anything that belonged
to them. Yet one, who appeared to me to be a gentle-
woman, going up to the place where their bodies were in
quartering, and not without difficulty making her way
through the crowd, fell down upon her knees before the
multitude, and with her hands joined and eyes lifted up
to heaven declared an extraordinary emotion and affection
of soul. She spake also some words, which I could not
hear from the tumult and noise. Immediately a clamour
was raised against her as an idolatress, and she was drove
away; and whether or no she was carried to prison, I
could not certainly understand."

At the same Assizes at York, another priest, Roger
Diconson, was condemned to death, and seven maiden
ladies who had assisted at a mass he had celebrated in
their house.

Margaret Clitheroe, daughter of Mr. Middleton, a
"gentleman of a fair estate in Yorkshire," was the wife
of a Mr. Clitheroe, and lived in the city of York. Their
house was a common refuge of missionary priests. De-
tected at last as harbouring them, her husband fled, and

Yorkshire Recusci7i ts. 237

she, being seized, was committed to York Castle ; and
kept strictly confined till her trial.

On Monday, the 14th of March, 1586, in the afternoon,
Mrs. Clitheroe was brought from the Castle to the
Common Hall in York, before the two judges, Mr. Clinch
and Mr. Rhodes, several others of the council sitting with
them on the bench.

Her indictment was read : — " That she had harboured
and maintained Jesuit and seminary priests, traitors to the
Queen's Majesty and the law; and that she had heard
mass and such like."

Then Judge Clinch stood up and said — "Margaret
Clitheroe, how say you? Are you guilty of this indict-
ment or not?"

" I have harboured no traitors to the Queen. God
forbid that I should have done so," she answered.

The judge asked her how she would be tried.

" Having committed no offence," she answered, " I
need no trial."

11 You have offended against the statute, and therefore
must be tried."

A little child, frightened by the officers who had been
sent to search Mrs. Clitheroe's house, had revealed the
priest's secret chamber,* and there a chalice and some
sacerdotal vestments had been found. These were brought
out ; and the judges, scoffing at her religion, asked her in
what she believed.

" I believe in God," said she, gravely.

" In what God ? " asked the judge.

* Several of these secret hiding-places remain in old Yorkshue
houses. There is one at Norton Conyers ; another at New Hall, near
Thirsk — a hole in the thickness of the wall.

238 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

" I believe," she answered, " in God the Father, Sonr
and Holy Ghost ; and hope for salvation through the
death and mercy of Jesus Christ."

Margaret Clitheroe persistently refused to plead. If
she pleaded she would be tried for high treason, and if
found guilty the law of England would condemn her to be
burnt alive; but this horrible death would in all pro-
bability have been commuted to hanging.

Next day she was brought into the Common Hall to be
reheard. She again refused to plead. The judge said to
her — " Yesterday we passed you over without sentence,
hoping you would put yourself on the country, for other-
wise you must needs have the law. We see nothing why
you should refuse ; there be but small witness against you,,
and the country will consider your case."

" Indeed," said she, " I think you have no witness
against me but children, whom with an apple or a rod you
may cause to say what you will."

" It is plain," said the judge, " that you have hidden
priests in your house by the things which have been found
there." She answered — " As for good Catholic priests, I
know no cause why I should refuse them as long as I
live." On this, Rhodes, Thurleston, and others ex-
claimed— " They are all traitors and deceivers of the
Queen's subjects." " God forgive you," she meekly
replied ; "you would not speak so if you knew them."

Whigginton, a Puritan preacher, then boldly stood
forward and interceded in her behalf, assuring the judge
that if the Queen's law empowered them to put her to
death, God's law did not do so. But it was in vain.
Margaret would not plead, and must therefore take the
consequences. The law was plain on the subject. The

Yorkshire Reczisan is. 239

unfortunate woman had several reasons for refusing to plead.
In the first place, had she done so, she would at once
become liable to have torture applied to extract from her
a confession of the names of those she had concealed,,
and of other Romanists in York who had abetted her in
secreting priests. She doubted her constancy under the
rack, and therefore deemed it advisable to refuse to plead.
Another reason may have been that she preferred a death
in the prison before a few witnesses to a public hanging
amidst a crowd.

The judge passed sentence — " That in the lowest part
of her prison she should be stripped, laid on her back on
the ground, and as much weight laid on her as she could
bear, and so continue for three days ; and on the third
day, should she still refuse to plead, be pressed to death —
her hands and feet tied to a post, and a sharp stone under
her back."

Margaret Clitheroe heard this fearful sentence with no
change of countenance, but said, " If this judgment be
according to your conscience, I pray God for a better
judgment in His presence."

She implored to be allowed to see her husband before
her death. Even this mercy was denied her. The night
before she suffered she asked the gaoler's wife to allow
one of her maids to bear her company through the night,
" not for any fear of death, but because the flesh is frail."
The kind woman herself remained the night with her.

She suffered at York, March 25th, 15S6. The following
is an account of her death given by an eye-witness : —

" The place of execution was the Tolbooth, six or seven
yards from the prison. After she had prayed, Fawcett, one
of the sheriffs, commanded them to put off her apparel,

240 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

when she, with four women, requested him on their knees
that, for the honour of womanhood, this might be dis-
pensed with. But they would not grant it. Then she
requested them that the women might unapparel her, and
that they would turn their faces from her during that time.
The women took off her clothes, and put on her a long
linen habit.* Then quietly she laid her down upon the
ground, her face covered with a handkerchief, and most
part of her body with the habit. The door was laid upon
her, her hands joined towards her face. Then the sheriff
said, ' Nay, ye must have your hands bound.' Then two
sergeants parted her hands, and bound them to two posts.
After this they laid weight upon her which when she felt,
she said, ' Jesu, Jesu, Jesu, have mercy upon me ! ' which
were the last words she was heard to speak. She was in
dying about one quarter of an hour. A sharp stone, as
much as a man's fist, had been put under her back ; upon
her was laid to the quantity of seven or eight hundred-
weight, which breaking her ribs, caused them to burst forth
of the skin."

Her children, by order of Government, were carried
away and brought up as Protestants : her son William was
sent first to Cambridge and then to Oxford. But the
strong impressions made by his mother's holy life and
dreadful martyrdom produced their natural effect, and he
left England and embraced the Roman faith.

John Lockwood was the eldest son of Christopher Lock-
wood, of Soresby, in Yorkshire, by his wife, a daughter of
Sir Robert Lassels, of Brackenborough, in the same county.
He was born in 1555. He gave up his succession to his
father's estates that he might serve God as a Roman
* This she had made for herself whilst in prison.

Yorkshire Recusants. 241

Catholic priest, and resigned the comfort of a gentleman's
position in his county for the risks and sufferings of the
career of a missionary in England.

He was ordained at Rome. Twice he was imprisoned
in England before his final capture and death. In 16 10 he
was banished the country ; but he returned, and the old
man remained in the house of Mrs. Catersly at Woodend,
near Thirsk, till his final capture. He was at work in his
little garden when the priest-catchers rushed upon him.
Their leader was one Cuthbert Langdale. John Lockwood
was then aged eighty-seven. He was set by the priest-
catchers on horseback, but through age and weakness could
not ride. Cuthbert then got up behind to support him, but
the poor old man fainted in his arms, and when he re-
covered his senses was very sick.

" If you cannot sit on horseback, you shall lie on it,"
said the brutal fellow ; " for to York Castle you are sent,
and to York Castle you shall go, with the leave of the
Lord."

Accordingly they laid their prisoner across the horse,
Cuthbert riding behind, and holding the old man in his
place with one hand, while he held the rein with the other.
Thus, after many a halt, many a sick fit and fainting away,
the priest was brought to York, amidst the indignation of
the citizens, who saw the venerable man's white hair
draggling about the stirrup of the priest-catcher, and his
legs hanging down on the other side of the saddle. When
Langdale had delivered up his prisoner, Mr. Lockwood
said to him, " Hark ye, Cuthbert, I have even given you a
great deal of trouble in bringing me here. Take an angel
for your pains ; and the Lord be with you." And he gave
him a five-shilling piece.

VOL. II. R

242 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

Lockwood found in prison another Yorkshire Popish
priest, the Rev. Edmund Catterick, descended from the
Cattericks of Carlton, an ancient family in the North-
Riding. His capture had been singularly disgraceful. He
had come as a guest to the house of Justice Dodsworth,
who was a relative ; when the Justice took advantage of
the occasion of having him in his house to secure his
person and send him to York Castle to be tried, and even
appeared as witness against him.

King Charles I. reprieved the two priests for a short
time, but the Parliament having remonstrated at the
reprieval of Popish recusants, the King reluctantly signed
the warrant for their execution.

On the 13th of April, 1642, the King, the Prince of
"Wales, and other distinguished persons being then at
the Manor in York, the two priests were drawn on a hurdle
through the streets to the place of execution. After
spending some time in prayer, Mr. Catterick was desired
by the sheriff to mount the ladder. The poor man turned
deadly white and trembled. Mr. Lockwood, seeing his
friend's distress, at once stepped forward, and planting
himself at the foot of the ladder, said — " Mr. sheriff, under
favour, the place is mine ; I am his senior by many years,
and therefore with leave I challenge it as my right to
mount the ladder first."

Then turning to his friend, he said — " My dear
brother in Jesus Christ and fellow-sufferer, take courage.
We have almost run our race; shall we faint when in
sight of the prize ? Oh ! let us run in spirit to our
Saviour in the garden, and call on Him in His agony
and sweat of blood."

Then he prayed—" Oh, blessed Lord Jesus, who didst

Yorkshire Recusants, 243

submit Thyself to death for the example and comfort of
Thy servants at the hour of their deaths, be near us, we
beseech Thee, at this moment. Moderate our fears,
strengthen our faith, and confirm our hopes, that in
obedience to Thy call we may go forth to meet Thee
readily and cheerfully ; and thankfully to drink of Thy
cup, however bitter to nature. Sweeten that cup, O
Lord, by Thy grace; help Thy poor servants that call
upon Thee, that we may here lay down our lives, in
obedience to Thy holy will and in defence of Thy holy
religion, with constancy and obedience. Lord Jesus,
once more we commend ourselves in this dread hour
to Thee. Help us by Thy powerful grace, that Thou, O
Lord, mayest be glorified by our death, and Thy Church
and people be edified."

After this beautiful prayer he began to climb the ladder ;
but on account of his advanced age this was a difficulty
with him, and he did it very slowly.' Turning with a smile
to the Sheriff, he said — " Have patience with me. It is a
hard matter for an old man of fourscore and seven to
climb. However, I will do my best." Two men helped
him, and he reached the top. Thence he called cheerily
to Mr. Catterick, and asked how he was.

" In good heart," he replied ; " blessed be God. Thanks
be to my Lord and Saviour Jesus, who, by His grace
strengthening me, and by your good example, has en-
couraged me."

The rope was placed round the poor old priest's neck.
He raised his hands and eyes to heaven, and cried —
" Jesus, my Saviour ! Jesus, my Redeemer ! receive my
soul ! Jesus, be to me a Jesus ! " At the same moment
the hangman flung him off the ladder; he fell heavily,

244 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

and was speedily dead. Mr. Catterick suffered next.
The executioner, moved by the snowy hair of Mr. Lock-
wood and resignation of both sufferers, was so overcome
that he refused to proceed with the sentence — to draw and
quarter the victims — saying he would rather hang himself
than do so. At last a woman, full of more religious
fanaticism than Christian mercy, urged and upbraided
him so that he was wound to a pitch of frenzy, and " fell
to work like a fury," cutting and slashing the bodies of
both the martyrs; and hacking the entrails into small parts,
flung them amongst the crowd. A vessel of pitch was
bubbling near at hand. Taking the bleeding heads, legs,
and arms which he had chopped off from the two trunks,
he dipped them in the pitch. The heads and quarters
were then fixed on spikes on the city gates, those of Mr.
Lockwood on Bootham Bar, close to the King's palace, so
that Charles could not possibly avoid seeing them when-
ever he went in or out; and those of Mr. Catterick on
Micklegate Bar.

The two priests suffered on April 13th, 1642.

But enough of these revolting and distressing stories.
We may well be thankful that some progress has been
made in the direction of religious toleration — such pro-
gress, at all events, as would make the recurrence of
scenes like these for ever impossible. But we have yet
much to learn ; we have yet to admit that zeal for God,
gleams of His truth, sincerity, and earnest piety are to be
found elsewhere than in the narrow circle to which we
belong. " I condemn none in whom I find any trace of
Christ," * was the beautiful saying of John Sturm. " Why

* " Ego neminem damno in quo aliquid Christi re perio " (J no.
Sturmii, Antipap. prin).,ann. 1573).

Yorkshire Recusants. 245

should people," said Francis Junius, himself a sufferer from
religious intolerance, " overlooking the good because of
that which is bad in him, drive a man desperately down a
precipice ? Why should we destroy him with our ill-nature
and intolerance ? We should rather labour to kindle the
little sparks of goodness in him, instead of extinguishing
them 1 and when once kindled, diligently keep them
burning and shining."*

* Eirenicon, p. 47

246 Yorkshire Oddities a7id Incidents.

MARY BATEMAN,

WITCH AND MURDERESS.

|ARY HARKER was the daughter of a small
farmer at Aisenby, in the parish of Topcliffe,
near Thirsk, where she was born in 1768.
From an early age she exhibited great quick-
ness, which, instead of taking a direct course and de-
veloping into intelligence, was warped into low cunning.

She received, for one in her situation, a good education
— was taught to read, and write, and cypher. But she
very early showed a want of moral principle, very possibly
because it was never instilled into her by her parents, and
her first petty thefts having been pardoned or laughed at,
she grew bolder, and what had been occasional grew to be
frequent, and matured into a habit of peculation. Her
father sent her into service at the age of thirteen, in Thirsk,
and for a while she either concealed or did not yield to her
propensity for theft. At all events, if she did pilfer, she
was neither suspected nor discovered.

At the age of twenty she left Thirsk for York, and after
a year's sojourn in that city, was detected in an attempt at
robbery, and ran away to Leeds, where, in 1788, she
worked as a mantua-maker ; but as her knowledge of dress-

Mary Bateman. 247

making was imperfect — she had only acquired it during her
twelvemonth at York, where her mistress had been a dress-
maker— she was able to work for the lower classes alone.
She lived in Leeds for four years, following this occupation
and occasionally telling fortunes. Her professed calling
-admirably served to introduce dupes to her, and the
servant-girls for whom she worked not infrequently intro-
duced her to their young mistresses.

In the year 1792 she married an honest, hard-working
man named John Bateman, who had made her acquaintance
•only three weeks previously. This man, there is no reason
for believing, was, at first at all events, an accomplice in,
or acquainted with, the crimes committed subsequently by
his wife, though afterwards it is scarcely possible to excul-
pate him from connivance in them.

She now began openly to profess fortune-telling, the
removal of spells, the power of controlling the future, &c,
in which, however, she did not act in her own name, but as
the deputy of Mrs. Moore, whom she represented as a
person endowed with the supernatural powers belonging
to the seventh child of a seventh child.

Whether such a person existed or not was never as-
certained, but it is certain that Mary Bateman, at the
outset of her career, had some accomplice, and she was
from her youth fond of associating with gipsies and other
vagrants, from whom she learned the arts she afterwards
practised.

The Batemans lodged in High Court Lane, Leeds, and
•she stole from a fellow-lodger a silver watch, a spoon of
the same metal, and two guineas. The theft was dis-
covered, and she was made to restore what she had taken,
but she was not prosecuted.

248 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

Several charges of obtaining silk goods under various
names of persons with whom she was acquainted were
made and substantiated at this time, but the shopkeepers,
with mistaken clemency, regarding her as a poor milliner,,
forgave her.

A poor man, a neighbour, who earned his living and
supported his family with the assistance of a horse and
cart, sickened and died, leaving a widow and four children,
the eldest a boy about fifteen years of age. The widow,
who was only stepmother of the children, was persuaded
by Mary Bateman that the eldest boy meant to sell all the
little property his father had left, and appropriate the money
to his own use, to prevent which she advised the mother to
sell the horse, cart, and furniture as soon as possible, and
to quit Yorkshire. This advice the infatuated woman took,
turned everything into money, left a share with Mary for
the children, and departed. Mary Bateman appropriated
the sum entrusted to her, and sent the children to the
union.

A gentleman living in Meadow Lane, in Leeds, bought
a leg of mutton 'at the shambles, and requested that it
might be sent home immediately. Mary, ever on the
watch for her prey, hastened to the bridge over which the
butcher's boy had to pass, and when she saw him
approach, made towards him in a great hurry, pretending
she was the gentleman's servant, scolded the boy for being
so long upon the road, and taking the mutton by the
shank, gave him a slap on the back, telling him she would
carry it home herself. It is needless to say that carry it
home she did, but not to the gentleman's house. When
dinner-time came the joint had not arrived. The gentle-
man went to his butcher to inquire about the neglect, but

Mary Batcman. 249

he was informed that the meat had been sent an hour ago,
and was taken from the boy by a woman, whom the butcher
described, and whom the gentleman recollected to have
seen at the stall when he was buying the meat, and whose
residence he luckily knew to be in the Old Assembly-room
Yard, in Kirkgate. He accordingly posted down to her
house, and the first object that presented itself to his eyes
on entering it was his leg of mutton roasting before
Bateman's fire. After upbraiding Mary, she agreed
to pay for the mutton, and the matter was thus com-
promised.

In 1793 Bateman took a small house in Well's Yard,
and furnished it decently — by what means, unless from the
proceeds of her frauds, it is difficult to say, though it is
due to the husband to admit that he was never proved to
be cognisant of any of her malpractices, and was some-
times the victim of them. She once went to his workshop
and took with her a letter representing that his father,
who was then town-crier at Thirsk, was at the point of
death.

Her husband instantly set off for that town, and had
scarcely entered it when he heard his father's voice in the
market-place announcing an auction. He hurried back to
Leeds to inform his wife of the hoax that had been
practised upon them ; but on his return he found his house
stripped of every article of furniture, which Mary had
sold, in all probability to hush up some robbery she had
committed.

After some time they jointly found means to get fresh fur-
niture, and they took in lodgers, one of whom, a Mr. Dixon,
discovered Mary in the act of purloining money from his
box. She was forced to refund it, and make good several

250 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

losses that Mr. Dixon had before sustained, but for which
he had not been able to account.

In the year 1796 a tremendous fire broke out in a large
manufactory in Leeds, and by the falling of one of the
walls many unfortunate people lost their lives. This
calamity Mary Bateman turned to her own advantage. She
went to Miss Maude, a lady known for her charitable dis-
position, and telling her that the child of a poor woman
had fallen a victim, and that she had not linen to lay the
child out on, begged she would lend her a pair of sheets.
This request was complied with ; but the sheets, instead
of being turned to such a benevolent purpose, were pledged
at a pawnbroker's shop. Three similar instances occurred
at the same time, and all the sheets were disposed of in
the same way. Nor did her frauds on the plea of this
calamity end here. She went round the town representing
herself as a nurse at the General Infirmary, and collecting
all the old linen she could beg to dress the wounds, as she
said, of the patients who had been brought into the infir-
mary, but in reality to dispose of them for herself.

Bateman, ashamed of the disgrace caused by his wife's
conduct, entered the supplementary militia, but he took
with him his plague — his wife. And here a wide field
opened for a woman of her disposition. She practised her
old arts and learnt fresh ones. Of her exploits while in
this situation we have no information ; but when she
quitted the army with her husband in the year 1796, on
their return to Leeds, they took up their residence in
Marsh Lane, near Timble Bridge. Mary then began to
practise on a large scale. She herself, as she said, had no
skill in casting nativities or reading the stars, but a certain
Mrs. Moore was a proficient in this art, and to Mrs. Moore

Mary Bateman. 251

she referred all knotty points. It is hardly necessary to
say that Mrs. Moore had no existence whatever.

The first experiment in witchcraft was made upon a
Mrs. Greenwood, whom she attempted to persuade that
she, Mrs. Greenwood, was in danger of committing suicide
on account of domestic misfortunes, and that the skill of
Mrs. Moore would be necessary to prevent so dire a catas-
trophe. Next she informed her that her husband, who
was then from home, was taken up for some offence, and
placed in confinement; that four men had been set to
watch him ; and that if four pieces of gold, four pieces of
leather, four pieces of blotting-paper, and four brass screws
were not produced that night, and placed in her hands to
give to Mrs. Moore to "screw down" the guards, her
husband would be a dead man before morning. In vain
did Mrs. Greenwood plead that she had no pieces of gold ;
this difficulty Mrs. Bateman proposed to overcome by sug-
gesting to her that she might borrow or steal them ; the
latter proposal startled her intended dupe, and, fortunately
for her, she had fortitude enough to emancipate herself
from the witch's trammels.

The family of Barzillai Stead, a person who had been
unsuccessful in business, next became the object of Mary's
iniquitous exactions. Upon the husband's fears she con-
trived to work with so much success, by representing
the bailiffs to be in continual pursuit of him, that she
obliged him to enlist, and to share his bounty with her
and her imaginary wise-woman. Her next object was
to arouse the jealousy of the wife; this she did by
assuring her that it was the intention of Barzillai to
take with him when he went to his regiment a young
woman out of Vicar Lane, Leeds. In order to prevent

252 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

this it became necessary to " screw down " the rival
queen ; this was to be effected by the agency of Mrs.
Moore, but Mrs. Moore's screws would never drive without
money — three half-crowns were to be produced for this
purpose, and two pieces of coal ; the coals were to be
placed at the woman's door in Vicar Lane ; they were then
to be laid on the fire — the woman was to be thrown into a
sound sleep — the fire was to communicate to her clean
clothes, which had been washed in contemplation of the
intended journey, and, the clothes being consumed, she
could not of course elope without them. The morning
after this charm had taken effect, Stead left Leeds to join
his regiment, and left the imaginary woman of Vicar Lane
behind him. Mary was then left at liberty to play off the
whole artillery of her frauds upon the unsuspecting wife of
Stead. To enter into all the expedients she adopted to
fleece this poor woman would swell this article to an
inconvenient length ; suffice it to say that she obliged her
to sell or pawn every article in her house that would raise
money, and drove her to such a state of desperation as to
lead her victim to attempt suicide. While Mary Bateman
was practising upon this woman, her dupe was confined,
and the Leeds Benevolent Society, finding her in a
state of destitution, determined to apply a guinea to the
relief of her wants. This sum was given to her in three
payments of 7s., and out of this guinea Mary Bateman had
the inhumanity to extort 18s. by persuading the credulous
woman that she would " screw down " the Benevolent
Society, so as to force the managers to give her more alms.
The furniture and clothes were now all gone, and
nothing remained but a few tools left by Stead when he
went into the army, but even these could not escape the

Mary Batcman. 253

avarice of Mar}' Bateman, who was never at a loss for
expedients to effect her purposes. She persuaded Stead's
wife that it was in the power of Mrs. Moore — Mrs. Moore
again ! — to " screw down " all the officers in her husband's
regiment, and so to screw them that they could not avoid
giving him his discharge ; but then money must be raised,
and how, when nothing remained in the house but the
tools ? They of course must be sent to the pawnbroker's,
and every farthing they fetched was paid to Mary to get
her friend Moore to interpose her kind offices for the
liberation of the soldier. This charm failed, as the officers
were too much for the witch.

Mary Bateman next became acquainted with a trades-
man's wife of the name of Cooper. She persuaded this
woman that her husband was about to abscond, and take
with him all the property he could raise, and that she might
not be left quite destitute, Mary prevailed upon her to
convey as much of the furniture as she could out of the
house, including an excellent clock, and to lodge all this
furniture at Bateman's. There it did not remain long.
Mary took it all to the pawnbroker's, got for it what it
would fetch, and left the abused husband and his credu-
lous wife to redeem it at their leisure.

Blown upon as the credit of Mrs. Bateman's witchcraft
then was, she removed from Timble Bridge to the Black
Dog Yard, at the Bank. While she lived here one of
her hens laid a wonderful egg, remarkable for bearing
this inscription —

u Christ is coming."'

But as so singular a phenomenon was not likely to obtain
all the credit necessary for carrying into effect her fraudulent

254 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

intentions unless supported by some kind of proof, she
had the ingenuity and cruelty to contrive that two other eggs,
bearing similar inscriptions, should be deposited in the nest
by the same unfortunate hen. Persons flocked from all
quarters to see the wonderful eggs, and they who dared to
disbelieve stood a good chance of being maltreated by the
credulous multitude. Mary's motive for producing those
eggs is not well made out, but it is supposed that she had
at that time a notion of following the example of Joanna
Southcote, as she was then in the habit of attending the
meetings of the sect founded by that extraordinary woman.
Mary succeeded in realising no inconsiderable sum by
means of these eggs, for she made those who came to
see the miracle pay a penny each for the gratification of
their curiosity.

Shortly after, the subject of this narrative contrived to
ingratiate herself, as she well knew how, into the good
graces of a family of the name of Kitchin, two maiden ladies
of the Quaker persuasion, who kept a small linen-draper's
shop near St. Peter's Square, in Leeds. There is every
reason to suppose that she had deluded these unfortunate
young women with some idea of her skill in looking into
futurity, or at least that some of her friends — a Mrs.
Moore or a Miss Blythe perhaps — could read their destiny
in the stars ! For some time Mary was the confidant of
the Misses Kitchin. She was frequently at their house ;
she assisted in their shop ; and her interference extended
even to their domestic concerns. In the early part of
September, 1803, one of the young women became
very ill ; Mary Bateman procured for her medicines,
as she said, from a country doctor. These medicines,
like those administered afterwards to Perigo and his un-

Mary Bateman. 255

fortunate wife, were of powerful efficacy, and in the course
of less than one week Miss Kitchin died. In the mean-
time her mother, hearing of her dangerous situation, came
from Wakefield, and though in good health when she left
home, the mother as well as the second daughter took
the same illness, and in a few days both were laid in the
grave, at the side of their ill-fated relation.

Previous to the death of one of the sisters a female
friend of the family was sent for, and when she arrived the
poor sufferer seemed oppressed with some secret that she
wished to communicate, but her strength failing her, she
expired without being able to do so.

Only ten days sufficed to carry off the mother and
two sisters. The complaint of which they died was
said to be cholera — a complaint, let it be remembered,
attended by symptoms resembling those produced by
poison. It did not, however, suit the purposes of Mary
Bateman to give the disorder so mild a name. She
represented it to be the plague, and the whole neigh-
bourhood shunned the place, and would as soon have
entered the most infectious wards of a pest-house as this
dwelling. Mary alone, in the face of all danger, was
ready to afford her friendly offices ; and when the persons
composing this unfortunate family were buried, the door
was closed, and a padlock placed upon it.

A physician of eminence in the town, on being called in
to visit the last surviving sister, was so strongly impressed
with the opinion that her sickness and sudden death
had been caused by poison, that he examined with much
care many of the vessels in the house, inquired if any
water for poisoning flies had been used, and expressed a
wish to open the body; but the family being all dead, and

256 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

no persons at hand who thought themselves authorised to
give that permission, the corpse was interred unopened,
and with it the opportunity of detection. During the time
of the fatal illness in the Misses Kitchin's house, Mary
Bateman was unremitting in her attention ; she adminis-
tered their food, and from her hands the medicine was
conveyed to their lips. Some time after the death of these
ladies their creditors looked over their effects, when it was
found that their house and shop had been plundered of
almost everything they contained ; and to add to the em-
barrassment of their affairs, the shop books were missing.
The creditors only divided eightpence in the pound.

Two young women, then servants in Leeds, had long
been in Mary's toils, and she had fleeced them pretty hand-
somely ; and not only them, but their friends, for she had
prevailed upon one of them to rob her mother of several
articles, and amongst the rest of a large family Bible.
When she had got all from them that could be extorted
without awakening the suspicions of their friends, she sent
both these deluded girls, at different times, to seek service
in Manchester, cautioning them, if they met, not to speak
to each other, on pain of breaking the charm. When they
arrived in Manchester, Mary contrived to keep up a corre-
spondence with them, and got from them even the clothes
they wore, so that they were almost reduced to a state of
nakedness. One day these poor destitute girls met in the
streets of Manchester ; the meeting being quite unexpected,
they both burst into tears, and their emotions became so
violent that further concealment was out of the question.
They thereupon related to each other their sad history, and
by comparing notes, found that they were both the dupes
of Mary Bateman. They then wrote to Leeds, and laid

Mary Bateman. 257

their case before their friends, who interfered in their
behalf, and got from the witch part of the property she had
so wickedly extorted.

The witch also contrived to ingratiate herself into the
good opinion of another young woman, and got from her
several sums of money for the purpose of curing her of an
" evil wish " laid upon her by an old beggar-woman whom
she had refused to relieve. The cure was to be effected by
Miss Blythe, to whom a pocket-handkerchief was to be
sent. In due course the directions arrived, and Miss
Blythe, who, like Mrs. Moore, could never put her charms
in motion without money, required that different sums,
amounting in all to five guineas, should be produced, and
as much wearing apparel as was worth about the same
sum ; but this money and these clothes were only to be
kept till the evil wish was removed, and then to be restored
to the owner. The period fixed for the opening of the
mysterious bags, in which these articles were deposited,
had arrived, when one day a person brought a fruit-pie to
the young woman, telling her that her sweetheart had sent
it. This pie she tasted, and let a fellow-servant partake
with her, but though very nice in appearance, the taste was
hot and offensive; they in consequence desisted from
eating it, and the young woman took it down to Mary
Bateman to ask her opinion. Mary affected that she knew
nothing herself of such things, but she would send it to
the sagacious Miss Blythe. This, as the simple girl sup-
posed, was done, and Miss Blythe informed her that it was
very well she had not eaten much of the pie, for if she had,
it would have been her last, as it was " full of poison ! "
Soon after the girl opened the bags, and found that her
guineas had turned to copper and her clothes to old rags 1
vol. 11. s

25 S Yorkshire Oddities cuid Incidents.

In the year 1S07, Bateman, who, owing to the conduct
of Mary, never remained long in one place, removed into-
Meadow Lane. While living in this situation a very extra-
ordinary circumstance occurred, and it is not improbable
that Mary was in some way privy to the transaction. A
man of the name of Joseph Gosling, a cloth-dresser, had
been long out of employ, and his family, which consisted
of a wife and four children, was reduced to great extremity,
One day the whole of the family had been out for some
time, when one of the children, a boy about seven years
of age, returned, 1 n 1 found on the table a small cake ; the
mother and other children soon after returned, and partook
of this cake. They immediately became so sick as to render
medical aid necessary. Mr. Atkinson, the surgeon, was then
sent for, and by administering emetics saved the lives of the
family. On analysing the cake it was found to contain a
large quantity of arsenic. It is impossible to say why or
by whom this poisonous bread was placed in the situation
in which the boy found it, and the only reason why it is
supposed to have been placed there by Mary Bateman is
the knowledge that poisonous drugs were much in use by
her, that human life was in her estimation of little value \
and that the cries or tricks of the children may have
inconvenienced her.

In the month of April, 1807, Judith Cryer, a poor old
washerwoman, and a widow, was occasioned uneasiness
by the misconduct of her grandson, a boy about eleven
years of age. "Winifred Bond, a person who had some
dealings with Mary Bateman, either as her dupe or her
agent, recommended the old woman to apply to Mary, as a
person who could remove the cause of her distress. Judith
consented to consult her ; Mary soon found out the foible

Mary Bateman. 259

of the poor woman. An inordinate fear about the future
fate of this darling grandson was the spring in Judith's
mind, on which the witch found she could play with suc-
cess. She recommended that an application should be
made to Miss Blythe, a lady of her acquaintance, who she
said lived at Scarboro', but who, in fact, had no more real
existence than the invisible Mrs. Moore. She then under-
took to write to her dear friend. In a few days an answei
was received from this lady, which shocked Judith beyond
description. The letter contained the representation of a
gallows, with a rope dangling from it. The letter also
stated that the grandson would be executed before he
attained the age of fourteen years, unless the catastrophe
was prevented by the old woman raising four guineas, and
applying it as Miss Blythe should direct. To raise such a
sum seemed as impossible to poor Judith as to pay the
National Debt. At last, however, she contrived to scrape
it together with the utmost difficulty. When raised, it was,
as Mary pretended, to remain unapplied till she received
further instructions from Miss Blythe. The instructions at
length arrived, and ordered that three guineas should be
put into a leathern bag, and sewed up in Judith's bed,
where they were to remain untouched till the boy had
attained the age of fourteen. The former part of these
directions were, as far as concerned Judith, faithfully com-
plied with — Mary, as she thought, deposited the money as
directed ; but when the witch was afterwards apprehended,
Judith opened her bed, took out the bag, and found it
empty.

Mary having embraced the faith of the followers of
Joanna Southcote, got introduced to the houses of many
of them, and invariably robbed them : sometimes by

260 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents,

practising on their fears, and at others by absolute
theft.

In the year 1808, Bateman's family removed to Camp
Field, in Water Lane, and there Mary met with a new and
profitable subject for the exercise of her villainous arts.
The wife of James Snowden, a neighbour, had a sort of
presentiment that one of her children would be drowned ;
but whether this notion proceeded from morbid fancies
originating in her own mind, or was suggested to her by
Mary Bateman, is not known. Mary Bateman offered her
services, or rather the services of Miss Blythe, to save the
child from a watery grave. Miss Blythe was then repre-
sented as living at Thirsk, and a letter was received from
her, directing that James Snowden's silver watch should be
sewed up in the bed by Mary Bateman. This was ac-
cordingly done.

Next, money to the amount of twelve guineas was re-
quired. Letters were received from Miss Blythe, directing
that this money should also be sewn up in the bed, to be
restored when the charm had taken effect. By-and-bye it
was found necessary to increase the terrors, and in addition
to the death of the son, Miss Blythe suggested that ill
would befall the daughter, unless the family left Leeds, and
removed to Bowling, near Bradford. The bed containing
the charms they were allowed to take with them, but it
was thought expedient to leave a considerable portion of
their property in the house, and deposit the key with
Bateman.

At length they expressed a wish to be allowed to rip open
the bed and take out the watch and money, but the proper
time, they were told, had not yet arrived ; and before the
property was taken out, the family of Snowden was to take

Mary Bateman. 261

a dose, which was at that time in preparation for them,
and was to have been administered about the end of
October, 1808. Happily for them this dose was never
taken.

At this juncture, so critical to the family in question,
Mary Bateman was apprehended for the frauds committed
on William Perigo's family, and the wilful murder of Perigo's
wife, by administering poison, of which she had died
nearly two years before. This event naturally created a
good deal of interest, and a narrative of the transaction
was published in the Leeds Mercury of the 22nd of
October. On the evening of that day Snowden was sitting
in a public-house at Bradford when the Mercury was pro-
duced, and the narrative read by some person in the com-
pany. Snowden heard the relation with violent emotion, and
as soon as it was finished, started from his chair and hurried
home with all possible expedition. His first care was to
give his wife a hasty and confused notion of the imposition
that had been practised upon them, and next to unrip the
folds of the bed ; when, instead of watch and money, he
discovered — a coal ! He then went to Leeds, and found his
house, which he had left in the care of Mary Bateman,
plundered of almost everything it had contained, and on a
search-warrant being procured, part of the property was
found in Bateman's house.

John Bateman, the husband, was in consequence appre-
hended and committed to prison, to take his trial for the
offence, either as a principal or as an accomplice. At the
lollowing Sessions his trial came on, and he was acquitted.

A brother of Mary Bateman, who had deserted from
his Majesty's navy, had come with his wife to live in Leedr,
and lodged with Bateman. Mary finding that her lodgers

262 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

were a restraint upon her, determined to be quit of them.
For this purpose she wrote, or procured to be written, a
letter to her sister-in-law, stating that her father was on
the point of death, and summoning her to attend to
receive his last blessing. The affectionate daughter an-
swered the summons instantly, but when she arrived at
Newcastle, where her father lived, she found him in perfect
health. In the absence of his wife, Mary contrived to
persuade her brother that she was inconstant, and was plung-
ing him in debt, and so far succeeded as to induce him to
write to his wife and tell her she need not return, for
he would not receive her. She did, however, return, and
convinced him of her innocence ; when on examining
their trunks it was discovered that Mary had, in the wife's
absence, stolen their clothes, and disposed of them for
what they would bring. This, as might be expected, roused
the brother's indignation ; but Mary soon got him out of
the way, for she actually went before the magistrates and
lodged an information against him as a deserter. He was
in consequence obliged to quit Leeds, and afterwards
entered military service. This did not, however, content
Mary. She wrote to his mother, and told her that her son
had been apprehended as a deserter, and that if she could
send .£10, a substitute was ready to go, and would be
accepted in his stead. The ten pounds were sent, and
Mary pocketed the money.

On the 2 1 st of October, 1808, Mary Bateman was appre-
hended by the Chief Constable of Leeds on a charge of
fraud, and was, after undergoing several long examinations
before the magistrates of the borough, committed to York
Castle on suspicion of the wilful murder of Rebecca
Perigo, of Bramley.

Mary Bateman. 26

o

A poor family of the name of Perigo, living at Bramley,
•near Leeds, had been defrauded by Mary Bateman of
money to the amount of nearly £10, and of clothes and
furniture to a considerable amount. These frauds were
committed under the pretence of engaging Miss Blythe to
relieve Mrs. Perigo from the effects of an " evil wish '>
under which she was supposed to labour. The money was
all represented as sewn up in the bed, and was to be at
the disposal of the Perigos when the spell was broken.
But when the appointed time for restoring the property
approached, Mary Bateman conveyed poison to Perigo and
his wife in their food. The woman died, but providentially
Perigo recovered, and was able to bring the poisoner to
justice.

It is unnecessary to give the particulars of the series of
extortions committed on the Perigos. When nothing
more could be extracted from the unfortunate people, and
Mary saw that the time was come when she must refund or
be exposed, the following letter reached her victims, pur-
porting to come from Miss Blythe : —

" My Dear Friends, —

" I am sorry to tell you you will take an illness in the
month of May next, either one or both, but I think both ;
but the work of God must have its course. You will
escape the chambers of the grave ; though you seem to be
dead, yet you will live. Your wife must take half a pound
of honey down from Bramley to Mary Bateman's at Leeds,
and it must remain there till you go down yourself, and she
will put in such like stuff as I have sent from Scarboro' to
her, and she will put it in when you come down and see
her yourself, or it will not do. You must eat pudding for

264 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

six days, and you must put in such like stuff as I have sent
to Mary Bateman from Scarboro', and she will give your
wife it, but you must not begin to eat of this pudding
while I let you know. If ever you find yourselves sickly
at any time, you must take each of you a teaspoonful of
this honey. I will remit ^20 to you on the 20th day of
May, and it will pay a little of what you owe. You must
bring this down to Mary Bateman's, and burn it at her
house when you come down the next time."

The rest shall be told by Perigo himself, as given in his
evidence at the trial.

Pursuant to the directions in this letter, witness stated
that his wife took the honey to Mary Bateman's ; that when
she returned she brought six powders with her. The
witness went to Mary Bateman's house, and talked to her
about the letter he had received, and said it was a queerish
thing that Miss Blythe should be able to foresee that they
should be ill. Mary explained that she (Miss Blythe) knew
everything relating to them, and that if they followed her
directions all would be well. Mary also told him that
they were to do with the powders each day as they were
marked, or it would kill them all. Mrs. Bateman then
mixed a powder in the honey in his presence, and he took
the honey home. On the 5 th of May witness received
another letter from Miss Blythe, but after reading it over
once or twice, and copying a few lines from it, he de-
stroyed it. He said the copy he had taken was also
destroyed. The witness was then desired to state the
contents of this letter, which he recited, as he did all the
letters that had been destroyed, from memory, as fol-
lows : —

Mary Bateman. 265

" My Dear Friends, —

"You must begin to eat pudding on the nth of
May, and you must put one of the powders in every day
as they are marked, for six days ; and you must see it put
in yourself every day, or else it will not do. If you find
yourself sickly at any time, you must not have no doctor,
for it will not do, and you must not let the boy that used
to eat with you eat of that pudding for six days ; and you
must make only just as much as you can eat yourselves; if
there is any left it will not do. You must keep the door
fast as much as possible, or you will be overcome by some
enemy. Now think on and take my directions, or else it
will kill us all. About the 25th of May I will come to
Leeds, and send for your wife to Mary Bateman's. Your
wife will take me by the hand, and say, ' God bless you
that I ever found you out.' It has pleased God to send me
into the world that I might destroy the works of darkness.
I call them the works of darkness because they are dark to
you. Now, mind what I say, whatever you do. This
letter must be burnt in straw on the hearth by your wife."

The witness proceeded to state that in consequence of
these directions, on the nth of May (Monday) they began
to eat of the pudding, a powder being put in each day as
marked on the paper, and that they found no particular
taste in the pudding for five days. And that on Saturday
the witness was coming to Leeds without seeing the powder
put in, when his wife reminded him that it was necessary he
should see it put in. Witness said his wife had made the
pudding earlier than usual for that purpose. Witness saw
the powder put in, which was four or five times larger
than any of the other powders. On his return from Leeds,

266 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

about twenty minutes after twelve o'clock, his wife had
prepared a small cake from some of the dough which was
left after making the pudding ; this she broke in two
pieces, and he ate one of them. Witness said the cake
tasted very keen, and observed to his wife if the pudding
tasted as bad he would not eat it. When the pudding was
ready he ate a single mouthful, but it was so nauseous that
he could eat no more of it ; his wife, however, swallowed
three or four mouthfuls, but was unable to eat more, and
she carried the pudding into the cellar, and was there seized
with the most violent vomitings. His wife said this was
the illness predicted by Miss Blythe, and they should take
the honey. "Witness took two spoonfuls of it, and his wife
took six or seven. This made them worse than before.
The vomiting continued incessantly for twenty-four hours.
His wife would not hear of a doctor being sent for, as that
was contrary to Miss Blythe's directions, who had assured
them that their sickness should not be unto death, and
though they might seem to be dead, yet should they live, for
that she was sent to destroy the works of darkness. Witness
said a violent heat came out of his mouth, which was very
sore, that his lips were black, and that he had a most
violent pain in his head, twenty times worse than a common
headache ; everything appeared green to him. Witness
had also a violent complaint in his bowels ; he could eat
nothing for several days, and began to get better only by
hairbreadths. The witness then proceeded to detail the
symptoms of his wife, which were similar to his own, only
more violent. Her tongue swelled so that she could not
shut her mouth, she was constantly thirsty, entirely lost
her strength, and expired on Sunday, the 24th of May.
Before she died he sent for Mr. Chorley, a surgeon from

Mary Batcman. 267

Leeds, but as she died before his arrival, a messenger was
sent to acquaint him with this circumstance, and therefore
he did not come. His wife before she died made him
promise not to be rash with Mary Bateman, but to wait the
appointed time. Witness himself went to Mr. Chorley on
the day after the death of his wife. Mr. Chorley, having
examined him and heard his account of the symptoms,
expressed his opinion that he had received poison into his
stomach. Witness said that his wife was perfectly well
immediately before eating of the pudding on Saturday.
By the directions of Mr. Chorley, a paste was made of the
flour of which their pudding had been made and given to a
fowl ; but it received no injury, and the witness said it was
alive to this day. A part of the fatal pudding was also
given to a cat, which it poisoned, but the result of this
experiment was detailed by another witness.

Witness now went into a detail of transactions subse-
quent to the death of his wife. In the month of June, a
short time after that event, the witness went to the prisoner's
house, and acquainted her with the death of his wife, and
tjld her he was sorry they had not sent for a doctor when
they were sick, but that they had acted according to the
directions of the letter. Mary Bateman said, " Perhaps you
did not lick up all the honey as directed in the letter";
and I said, " No 3 I am afraid it is that honey that has done
our job."

About the beginning of June, Perigo received a letter to
the following effect, purporting to be from Miss Blythe : —

M My Dear Friend,—

" I am sorry to tell you that your wite should
touch o; those things which I ordered her not, and for that

268 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

reason it has caused her death. It had likened to have
killed me at Scarboro' and Mary Bateman at Leeds, and
you and all ; and for this reason she will rise from the
grave, she will stroke your face with her right hand, and you
will lose the use of one side, but I will pray for you. I
would not have you to go to no doctor, for it will not do.
I would have you eat and drink what you like, and you will
be better. Now, my dear friend, take my directions, do,
and it will be better for you. Pray God bless you. Amen,
amen. You must burn this letter immediately after it is
read."

Soon after this, witness was ordered by Mr. Chorley to
Buxton, and having on his return called on the prisoner,
she expressed her surprise that he should have gone to a
doctor contrary to Miss Blythe's command, and said that
had she known he had been going to Buxton, she would
have given him a bottle that would have cured him on the
road.

William Perigo proceeded to relate that on the 19th of
October, 1808, he unripped the bed in which all the bags
were sewn up, and having opened the whole of them, he
found no money whatever. In the bags in which he
expected to find guinea-notes, he found only waste paper,
and where he expected to find gold, he found only a half-
penny or a farthing. But the four silk bags in which he
saw four guinea-notes put, he could not find at all, nor could
he give any account as to how or where they were gone.
Upon making this discovery the witness went to Leeds,
and saw Mary Bateman, and said to her, " I am sorry to
think you should use me in this manner ; " to which she
replied, " How ? " He then said, " I have opened the

Mary Bateman. 269

bags, and there is nothing in them but bits of lead, plain
paper, bad halfpennies, and bad farthings." At which she
did not seem at all surprised, but said, " You have opened
them too soon." He answered, " I think it is too late."
He then said he would come down to her house in the
morning with two or three men and have things settled.
The prisoner begged that he would not, and said if he
would appoint a time and place to meet her alone, she
would satisfy him. To this the witness consented, and the
Leeds and Liverpool canal bank, near the bridge, was fixed
as the place of meeting.

The officers of justice arrested Mary Bateman at this
meeting.

The trial was conducted at York before Sir Simon Le
Blanc on the 17th March, 1S09; she was found guilty,
and condemned to death.

During the brief interval between her receiving the
sentence of death and her execution, the Rev. George
Brown took great pains to prevail upon her to acknow-
ledge and confess her crime. On his touching upon the
subject of the Quaker ladies, whose death had been so
sudden and mysterious, she seemed perfectly to understand
his meaning, but said that she knew nothing about it, as at
the time she was confined in childbirth.

Though the prisoner behaved with her usual decorum
during the time that remained to her, and joined with
apparent fervour in the customary offices of devotion
she exhibited no compunction for crimes of which she
would not acknowledge herself to be guilty. She main-
tained her caution and mystery to the last. On the day
preceding her execution she wrote a letter to her husband,
in which she enclosed her wedding-ring, with a request that

270 Yorkshire Oddities and Incidents.

it might be given to her daughter. In this letter she
lamented the disgrace she had brought upon her husband
and family, but declared her entire innocence of the crime
laid to her charge, and for which she was about to suffer,
though she acknowledged — what, indeed, she could not
deny to her husband — that she had been guilty of several
frauds. " I have made my peace with my God, and am
easy in mind. To-morrow will end all here, and the Lord
will care for me hereafter."

It will hardly be credited, though it is a certain fact,
that this unhappy woman was so addicted to fraud that
even then she was incapable of refraining from her trickery
and deception. A young female prisoner had, in her pre-
sence, expressed a wish to see her sweetheart. Mary
Bateman took her aside, and said that if she could procure
a sum of money to be made into a charm, and sewed into
her stays, the young man would be compelled to visit
her. The simple girl complied, and Mary Bateman having
prepared a potent spell, it was bound round the breast of
the young woman. No sweetheart made his appearance,
and the girl's confidence beginning to waver, she unbound
the charm to take out her money, and found that it had
vanished.

The circumstance having been reported to the Governor
of York Castle, where Mary Bateman and the girl were
confined, part of the spoil was refunded, and Mary Bate-
man directed to balance the account by giving to the dupe
some of her clothes. Exhortations and remonstrances
failed to move her to confess her crimes. At five o'clock
on the morning of Monday, March 20th, 1809, she was
removed from her cell and from her infant child, which lay
sleeping on the bed, unconscious of the fate of its wretched

Mary Batcman. 271

mother. She stopped and kissed it for the last time, but
without showing any emotion at having to leave it for ever.
Every possible effort, every religious influence was brought
to bear on her to make her confess, but in vain. At twelve
o'clock she was led forth to execution. On the scaffold
she again denied her guilt, and with this denial on her
lips was launched into eternity.

Her body was taken to the General Infirmary at Leeds.
Though the hearse did not reach Leeds till midnight, it
was met by a considerable number of people who were
waiting for it. At the infirmary her body was exhibited at
the charge of 3d. a head to visitors for the benefit of the
institution. At this rate 2500 individuals were admitted,
and upwards of ,£30 was realised. Her body was after-
wards dissected ; and in compliance with a favourite York-
shire custom, her skin was tanned and distributed in small
pieces to various applicants.

END OF VOL. II.

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and live by it." — Church limes.

JOHN HODGES' NEW LIST.

THE GOSPEL STORY. A Plain Commentary on the Four
Gospels. Containing the Narrative of our Blessed Lord's Life anil
Ministry. Dedicated by permission to the Rev. Canon LlDDON, I>. !>.,
D.C.L., &c. By the Rev. \V. Michell, M.A., Inspector of Schools for

the Diocese of Bath and Wells. 3 vols., fcap. 8vo., cloth, $s. 6</. each.

Fourth Thousand.
" Now that the training of our future elementary schoolmasters is becoming
more than ever important, we should hope that the clergy will see to it that
their pupil teachers are instructed first to understand Scripture in its true sense.
For this purpose no better help can be given than 'The Gospel Story.' It
ought to be found in every parish and in every school." — Literary Gazette.

A POPULAR HISTORY OF THE CRUSADES. By the Rev. W.
E. Dutton, Rector of Menstone. With a Preface by the Rev. William
Denton, .M.A. Crown Svo., 6s.
" A capital boy's book."

THE SACRISTY; a Quarterly Review of Ecclesiastical Art and
Literature. Edited by the Rev. S. Bakini;-Goi;li>, M.A. 2 vols.,
handsomely bound in cloth, \zs. (hi. each; or £1 is. the two vols, on
direct application to the publisher.
%* To secure these, early application is necessary, as but a few copies only
remain on hand ; and as it will not be reprinted, copies will
become valuable.
"Thoughts on Parish Churches is a really excellent paper, full of practical
suggestions, by a man of taste and experience. — Illustrated A'. 1

" Such a contribution to the folk lore of Europe cannot but be welcomed
by all antiquarians. . . . We do not know when we have experienced greater
pleasure, or learned more from the perusal of any book. As in matter it is
excellent, so in its get-up it rellects the greatest credit upon its publisher." —
Weekly Register.

YORKSHIRE ODDITIES, INCIDENTS, AND STRANGE
EVENTS. 2 v./;-.. crown 8vo., ior. 0./. Third Edition.
" This book deserve-, and will ultimately obtain, a lar^e sale. It is as
amusing as Dean Ramsay's famous work, and almost as instructive as Cham-
bers' Domestic Annals." — S '., .eld Daily Telegraph.

THE GOLDEN GATE. A Complete Manual of Instructions, Dev

and Preparations. In 1 vol., cloth, 2s. oJ. ; roan, 5*. ; or in 3 parts,
is. each.

Part I. — Instructions. Price 1 .
Part II. -1 levotions. ;js \ ag
Part III. — Preparations. U.
" We do not hesitate to place ' The Golden < rate,1 for fulness and lu
at the head of all our devotional manual-, and as such to recommend ii ci 1
to our readers." — Church Review.

STORIES ON THE FESTIVALS. By Miss Jones. 2 vols., square
l6mo. Seventh Thousand. c,s.

SUNDAY STORIES FOR THE CHRISTIAN YEAR. 4 vols.,
square lonn. Fourth Thousand, ioj.
" Each story is founded upon some point in the Epistle or G >spel for the day
nothing could be better for reading to a San. lay class

JOHN HODGES' NEW LIST.

LITTLE ONES AT HOME. In crown 8vo., cloth, with 30 Illustra-
tions, 2S.

OUR CURATE'S BUDGET. Complete in 120 Numbers at 3</. ; also in
20 vols., cloth, with frontispiece, is. each.
This would be a capital set of Books to present to a Village or School
Library, Ship's Cabin, or Servants' Hall ; the numbers are also useful for
Mothers' Meetings, Missions, and Parochial Distribution.

OUR TITLE TO SON SHIP, and other Sermons. Second Edition, now
ready, fcap. 8vo., cloth, 3.r. 6d.
" These Sermons have a simplicity, earnestness, and ability such as we not
often meet with in volumes of greater pretensions from authors of higher name. "
— Guardian.

RUTILIUS AND LUCIUS; or Stories of the Third Century. By
Robert Isaac Wilberforce, M.A., late Archdeacon and Canon of
York. Crown 8vo. New Edition. 30.

SERMON AIDS ; being Outlines of Two Sermons for each Sunday
and Festival in the Year. By the Rev. G. Huntington, M.A.,
Rector of Tenby. Crown Svo., Js. 6d.

FAITH AND DUTY. By the Editors of "The Gospeller." Crown Svo. ,
cloth, 35. 6d., or in 3 parts, is. each. Contents : — Elementary Instruc-
tions in Church Principles, Hints for Daily Life, Days and Seasons, .Sic.

A MANUAL OF CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE; being an Explanation
of the Church Catechism. By the Rev. John James, M.A. New
Edition. Price is.

THE OLD HOUSE ON THE DOWNS. A Tale, by the Author of
the "Blarney Stone," &c. Fcap. 8vo., 2s. 6d.
" This is a well-written story; the characters are well drawn and not too
numerous, and the interest is sustained to the end." — Tablet.

By the Rev. Prebendary Clark, M.A.
THE FOUR TEMPERAMENTS.' A Course of Lent Sermons, to
which are added several occasional Sermons, preached in St. Mary's
Church, Taunton, by the Rev. W. R. Clark, M.A., Prebendary of
Wells and Vicar of Taunton. Crown 8vo., y. 6d.
"Thoughtful, discriminative, and practical." — Scottish Guardian.

JOHN WESLEY IN COMPANY WITH HIGH CHURCHMEN.

Crown 8vo., cloth. Sixth and Cheaper Edition, Revised and Enlarged.
2s. 6d. ; limp cloth, is. 6d.

Now ready, the 205th Thousand, price 2s. 6d., post free.
THE NARROW WAY : being a Complete Manual of Devotion for the
Young, with a Guide to Confirmation and Communion.
%* This Edition is printed in red and black on toned paper, and hand-
somely bound in purple cloth, bevelled boards, red edges.

A Companion to " The Narrow Way."
PREPARATION : a Short Manual of Prayers for Communicants, with
Devotions for Various Occasions, is.

0

IDING SECT. FEB 6 1973

PLEASE DO NOT REMOVE
CARDS OR SLIPS FROM THIS POCKET

UNIVERSITY OF TORONTO LIBRARY

DA

Baring-Gould, Sabine

670

Yorkshire oddities

T£B37

4.th ed.

1880